THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


7, 


. .  c  • 


LIFE    AND    LETTERS    OF    H.   TAINE 

1828-1852 


LIFE  AND  LETTERS 
OF  H.  TAINE 

1828-1852 


Translated  from  the  French  by 
MRS.    R.    L.    DEVONSHIRE 


NEW   YORK 
E.   P.   BUTTON    &   CO 

WESTMINSTER 
ARCHIBALD   CONSTABLE   &   CO    LTD 

z    WHITEHALL    GARDENS 
1902 


BUTLER  &  TANNER, 

THE  SELWOOD  PRINTING  WORKS, 

FROME,  AND  LONDON. 


Preface 

IT  is  not  our  intention  to  present  to  the  public  a  detailed 
biography  of  Hippolyte  Taine ;  we  merely  desire  to 
facilitate  the  study  of  the  letters  and  unpublished  frag- 
ments which  form  the  object  of  this  publication.  Many 
admirers  of  his  mode  of  thought  have  already  written  of 
him  more  fully  than  we  could  do  x  ;  doubtless  many 
more  will  do  so  when  the  documents  which  we  are  now 
bringing  to  light  allow  of  a  more  complete  study  of  the 
man  and  his  work.  They  can  fulfil  this  task  with  a  greater 
freedom  of  mind  than  is  possible  to  us  ;  our  duty  is  to 
render  it  easy  for  them,  whilst  faithfully  adhering  to  the 
instructions  left  by  M.  Taine. 

One  of  the  principal  traits  in  his  character  was  his  horror 
of  publicity  and  of  indiscreet  revelations  concerning  his 
private  life,  which — noble  and  dignified  as  it  was — he 
kept  from  the  outside  world  with  jealous  care.  He 
could  not  bear  the  thought  that  a  photograph  or  an  inter- 

1  See  Emile  Boutmy,  Taine,  Scherer,  Laboulaye ;  G.  Monod. 
Renan,  Taine,  Michelet ;  de  Margerie,  H.  Taine ;  Barzelotti,  La 
Vie  <T Hippolyte  Taine  ;  Sainte  Beuve,  Cauteries  duLundi,  vol.  xiii., 
and  Nouveaux  Lundia,  vol.  viii.  ;  Paul  Bourget,  Essais  de  Psychologic  ; 
Vicomte  de  Vogue,  Devant  le  Siecle ;  Andr6  Chevrillon,  Introduc- 
tion to  Lea  Origines  de  la  France  Contemporaine ;  Victor  Giraud, 
Essai  sur  Taine  ;  and  many  articles  by  other  writers.  The  book 
last  mentioned  contains  a  very  faithful  biography,  a  list  of 
M.-  Taine's  works,  and  another  list  of  the  principal  articles  written 
concerning  him. 

1497315 


PREFACE 

view  concerning  his  home  should  be  exposed  to  the  public 
gaze.  He  always  refused  to  allow  illustrated  papers  to 
publish  his  portrait ;  and  it  was  a  great  sacrifice  to  his 
colleagues  on  the  Debats  when  he  consented  to  appear  in 
the  picture  by  Jean  Beraud,  reproduced  in  1889  in  the 
Centenaire  du  Journal  des  Debats.  When,  about  the  same 
time,  his  friend,  Leon  Bonnat,  painted  the  admirable 
portrait  of  him  which  was  shown  at  the  Exhibition  of 
1900,  it  was  only  on  the  express  condition  that  it  should 
not  be  exhibited  in  his  lifetime.  And,  by  his  Will,  any 
reproduction  of  "  intimate  or  private  letters  "  is  absolutely 
forbidden.  "  The  only  letters  or  notes  which  may  be 
published,"  he  adds,  "  are  those  which  treat  of  purely 
general  or  speculative  matters,  such  as  Philosophy,  His- 
tory, Art  or  Physiology ;  and,  even  in  those,  passages  which 
in  any  degree  concern  private  life  shall  be  left  out,  and 
none  of  those  letters  shall  be  published  without  the  con- 
sent of  my  heirs,  after  they  have  cut  out  the  passages 
above  referred  to." 

In  this  work,  therefore,  no  facts  of  a  private  nature 
will  be  found,  save  such  as  have  been  thought  indispen- 
sable for  the  history  of  his  ideas  and  the  illustration  of 
the  surroundings  in  which  they  were  developed.  Indeed, 
he  often  expressed  unrestricted  admiration,  in  the  presence 
of  his  family  and  friends,  for  great  English  biographies 
such  as  Mrs.  Gaskell's  Life  of  Charlotte  Bronte,  Sir  George 
Trevelyan's  Life  and  Letters  of  Lord  Macaulay,  Bulwer's 
Life  of  Viscount  Palmerston,  etc.,  etc.  We  will  endeavour 
to  conform  to  these  models,  whilst  remaining  within  the 
limits  imposed  on  us  by  his  express  wish. 


VI 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 

Preface v 


PART  I. 
CHILDHOOD  AND  EDUCATION. 

CHAPTER  I. 

Family — Early  education    ......... 1 

H.  Taine  to  M.  Hatzfeldt  (Aug.  13,  1847) 9 

„       „      „  the  same  (Oct.  7,  1847)  . 10 


CHAPTER  II. 
/\ 

The  Philosophy  Class — Introduction  to  the  Human  Destiny      .     11 


CHAPTER  III. 

Admission  Examinations  to  the  Ecole  Normale 17 

H.  Taine  to  Prevost-Paradol  (Aug.  20,  1848) 18 

„       „       „  the  same  (Sept.  1,  1848) 22 

vii 


CONTENTS 

PAG* 

PART  II. 

THE  ECOLE  NORMALS. 
GHAPTEE  I. 

First  year  :  New  surroundings — Preparation  for  the  Licentiate 

— Private  works 27 

H.  Taine  to  Prevost-Paradol  (Feb.  22,  1849) 30 

„  the  same  (Mar.  2,  1849) 35 

„       „       „  the  same  (Mar.  20,  1849) 40 

„       „  the  same  (Mar.  25,  1849) 44 

X  .,       „       „  the  same  (Mar.  30,  1849) 49 

„       „       „  MUe.  Virginie  Taine  (Apr.  10,  1849)   ....  57 

„       „       „  Prevost-Paradol  (Apr.  18,  1849) 58 

„       „       „  the  same  (May  1,  1849) 63 

„  Prevost-Paradol  (July  10,  1849) 67 

„       „       „  the  same  (July  12,  1849) 70 

„  the  same  (July  21,  1849) 73 

„       „       „  the  same  (Aug.  24,  1849) 76 

„       „       „  the  same  (Sept.  11,  1849) 78 

„      „       „  the  same  (Sept.  25,  1849) 81 

„       „      „  the  same  (Oct.  1,  1849) .  83 

CHAPTER  II. 

Second  year  :   Life  in  the  Ecole — The  1850  Reaction — Private 
writings  :  Philosophy,  Dogmatism — Preparation  for  the 

Philosophy  Agregation  —  Sketch  of  a   History  of  Philo-  ' 

sophy 88 


Third  year :  Preparation  for  the  Agregation  continued — Private 

writings     .     .     .     ; 97 

viii 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Professors'   notes — Failure    at     the   Agregation — Causes    for 

that  failure — Prevost-Paradol' s  letter  to  M.  Greard  .     .  100 

Prevost  Paradol's  article  in  the  Liberte  de  Pemer      ....  103 

Letters  from  MM.  J.  Simon  and  Vacherot 104 

PART  III. 

PROFESSORSHIP. 

CHAPTER  I. 

Appointment  at    Nevers — Preparation  of   Lectures   for  the 

Philosophy  Agregation  and  of  Theses  on  Sensation  .     .  107 

H.  Taine  to  his  mother  (Oct.  15,  1851) 109 

„      „      „  Edouard  de  Suckau  (Oct.  22,  1851)       .     .     .  Ill 

„      „      ,,  Mile.  Virginie  Taine  (Oct.  29,  1851)       ...  114 

„       „      „  Prevost-Paradol  (Oct.  30,  1851) 116 

„      „      „  MUe.  Sophie  Taine  (Nov.  9,  1851)     ....  119 

„      „       „  Prevost-Paradol  (Nov.  16,  1851)        ....  122 

„      „       „  his  mother  (Nov.  18,  1851)       ......  126 

„      „      „  N.  (Nov.  22,  1851) 128 

„      „       „  Edouard  de  Suckau  (Nov.  23,  1851)      ...  130 

„      „       „  his  mother  (Dec.  5,  1851) 134 

„       „       „  Edouard  de  Suckau  (Dec.  9,  1851)   ....  136 

„      „       „  Prevost-Paradol  (Dec.  15,  1851)         ....  139 

„      „       .,  Prevost-Paradol  (Dec.  19,  1851) 142 

„       „       „  Mile.  Virginie  Taine  (Dec.  18,  1851)       ...  143 

„      „      „  Edouard  de  Suckau  (Dec.  22,  1851).     ...  146 

„       „       „  his  mother  (Dec.  24,  1851)        149 

„  Prevost-Paradol  (Dec.  30,  1851) 150 

„       „       „  his  mother  and  sisters  (Jan.  1,  1852)     .     .     .  154 

„       „       ..  Prevost-Paradol  (Jan.  10,  1852) 156 

,.      „       ..  Edouard  de  Suckau  (Jan.  15,  1852)  ....  159 

ix 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

H.  Taine  to  Prevost-Paradol  (Jan.  18,  1852) 163 

„  „  „  his  mother  (Jan.  27,  1852) 166 

„  „  „  Prevost-Paradol  (Feb.  5,  1852) 169 

„  „  „  Mile.  Sophie  Taine  (Feb.  15,  1852)  ....  172 

„  „  „  Prevost-Paradol  (Feb.  22,  1852) 174 

„  „  „  Edouard  de  Suckau  (Feb.  25,  1852)  ....  177 

„  „  ,.  MUe.  Virginie  Taine  (Feb.  26,  1852)  ...  179 

„  „  „  Edouard  de  Suckau  (Mar.  10,  1852).  ...  181 

„  „  „  Mile.  Virginie  Taine  (Mar.  18,  1852)  ...  184 

„  „  „  M.  Ernest  Havet  (Mar.  24,  1852,  ....  185 

„  „  „  Prevost-Paradol  (Mar.  28,  1852) 187 

The  Minister  of  Public  Education  to  EL  Taine  (Mar.  30, 1852)  190 

CHAPTER  II. 

Poitiers        193 

H.  Taine  to  his  mother  (Apr.  13,  1852) 193 

„       „       „  Edouard  de  Suckau  (Apr.  20,  1852)  ....  194 

„       „       „  Prevost-Paradol  (Apr.  25,  1852) 197 

„       „       „  M.  Leon  Crousle  (Apr.  25,  1852)       ....  199 

„       „       „  MUe.  Virginie  Taine  (Apr.  28,  1852)      ...  203 

„       „       „  Mile.  Sophie  Taine  (May  11,  1852)    ....  206 

M.  Adolphe  Gamier  to  M.  Victor  Le  Clerc  (May  17,  1852)  .  208 

H.  Taine  to  his  mother  (May  26,  1852) 209 

„       „  M.  Leon  Grousle  (June  2,  1852) 212 

„  Prevost-Paradol  (June  2,  1852) 215 

„       „       „  M.  Adolphe  Gamier  (June  7,  1852)  ....  217 

„       „       „  his  mother  (June  7,  1852) 221 

„  Edouard  de  Suckau  (June  15,  1852)      ...  226 

„       „       „  Prevost-Paradol  (June  22.  1852) 229 

M.  Adolphe  Gamier  to  H.  Taine  (June  20,  1852)    ...  231 

H.  Taine  to  Mile.  Sophie  Taine  (June  22,  1852)       ...  232 

z 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

H.  Taine  to  Edouard  de  Suckau  (June  27,  1852)      ...  235 

„      „      „  his  mother  (July  6,  1852) 238 

„       „       „  Edouard  de  Suckau  (July  17,  1852)      .     ,     .  240 

„      „      „  Mile.  Virginie  Taine  (July  20,  1852)      ...  244 

„       „       „  M.  Leon  Orousle  (July  27,  1852)       ....  246 

„      „       „  his  mother  (July  27,  1852)       249 

„       „       „  Prevost-Paradol  (Aug.  1,  1852) 250 

„       „      „  Mile.  Sophie  Taine  (Aug.  10,  1852)      ....  254 


PART  IV. 

RETURN   TO  PARIS. 
CHAPTER  I. 

The  Theses  supported — Appointment  at  Besancon —  M. 
Taine  asks  for  leave  of  absence — Life  in  Paris  — 
Lectures  at  M.  Carr6-Demailly's  School — Studies  in 

Zoology  and  Physiology 259 

H.  Taine  to  Edouard  de  Suckau  (Oct.  15,  1852)      ...  261 

„      „       „  the  same  (Nov.  28,  1852) 263 

„      „       „  his  mother  (Dec.  18,  1852)        266 

„       „       „  the  same  (Dec.  28,  1852) 267 

„       ,,       „  Mile.  Virginie  Taine  (Jan.  14,  1853)      ...  269 

„      „       „  Mile.  Sophie  Taine  (Jan.,  1853) 270 

„      „       „  his  mother  and  sisters  (Feb.  9,  1853)    .     .     .  272 

„      „       „  the  same  (Feb.  19,  1853) 275 

„      „       „  his  mother  (Mar.  17,  1853)       277 

„      „       „  Edouard  de  Suckau  (Apr.  11,  1853)       ...  278 

„      „      „  the  same  (Apr.  25,  1853) 280 

„       „       „  the  same  (May  31,  1853) 283 

„       „       „  his  mother  (May  11,  1853) 284 

xi 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

H.    Taine   to  M.  Hatzfeldt  (June  10,  1853) 284 

„      „      „  M.  Guizot       285 

M.  Guizot's  answer  (June  14,  1853) 286 

H.  Taine  to  his  mother  (June,  1853) 287 

„  Beranger  (June,  1853) 287 

Beranger's  answer  (June  21,  1853) 288 

H.  Taine  to  Edouard  de  Suckau  (June  18,  1853)    ...  289 

APPENDIX  L 

Philosophy  Notes  (1849)        293 

APPENDIX  II. 

Fragments  of  the  History  of  Philosophy  (1850) 300 

APPENDIX  III. 

Plan  of  the  Philosophy  and  Logic  Lectures  at  Nevera(1851- 

1852) 312 


xu 


PART  I 
CHILDHOOD    AND    EDUCATION 

CHAPTER  I 

The    Family — Early    Education — 
Correspondence 

HIPPOLYTE  ADOLPHE  TAINE,  who  came  of  an  old  Ardennes 
stock,  was  born  at  Vouziers  on  April  21,  1828.  His 
family  originated  in  the  village  of  Barby,  near  Rethel ; 
one  of  his  ancestors,  Joseph  Taine,  settled  at  Rethel  in 
1675,  and  became  an  alderman  and  governor  of  the  town.1 
For  several  generations  Joseph  Taine's  descendants  lived 
in  this  little  town  the  modest  and  honourable  life  of  good 
provincial  burghers.  Hippolyte  Taine's  great  -  grand- 
father, Pierre  Tf»ir"»  a  highly  intelligent.  ma*>,  Had  be>-a 
nicknamed  the  Philosopher  by  his  townsmen,  and  we  may 
point  out  to  believers  in  the  theory  pi  iiereoiby,  that, 
through  several  intermarriages  among  his  descendants,  he 

— •[/yxrv1 

1  A  complete  genealogy  of  the  Taine  family,  by  M.  Pillot,  will  be 
found  in  the  March  number  (1902)  of  the  Revue  Historique  Arden- 


LIFE   AND   LETTERS   OF   H.   TAINE 

appears  in  more  than  one  relationship  amongst  the  fore- 
fathers of  M.  Taine.  The  maternal  grandfather  of  Hip- 
polyte  Taine,  M.  Bezanson,  had  a  scientific  turn  of  mind  ; 
he  had  studied  magnetism  with  Dr.  Chapelin,  and  the 
grandson  carefully  preserved  treatises  of  philosophy, 
mathematics  and  algebra,  written  by  the  old  man  towards 
the  end  of  his  life.  His  father's  sisters,  elderly  maiden 
ladies,  who  led  in  their  small  native  town  the  most  pious, 
sedentary,  and  narrowly  austere  life,  had  nevertheless 
inherited  a  taste  for  abstract  ideas,  and  we  find  the  fol- 
lowing lines  in  the  correspondence  of  their  nephew,  then 
a  professor  at  Nevers  :  "  My  aunt  Eugenie  has  written  me 
a  letter,  in  which  she  advises  me  as  to  the  direction  of 
my  metaphysical  studies,  with  a  logical  argument  in 
support  of  the  system  of  philosophy  that  she  suggests." 

Hippolyte  Taine's  father,  Jean  Baptiste  Antoine  Taine, 
who  died  when  his  son  was  entering  his  thirteenth  year, 
was  a  man  of  a  cultured  mind,  full  of  wit  and  natural 
talent,  and  the  composer  of  pretty  verses  and  merry  songs, 
still  repeated  by  his  countrymen  more  than  fifty  years 
after  his  death.  He  had  a  passionate  love  of  the  country, 
and  used  often  to  take  his  little  son  with  him  when,  in 
the  course  of  his  professional  duties  as  a  country  lawyer, 
he  drove  through  the  beautiful  Ardennes  woods  which 
adorn  the  neighbourhood  of  Vouziers.  To  those  impres- 
sions of  early  childhood  may  probably  be  traced  the  keen 
appreciation  of  the  beauties  of  Nature,  and  the  intense 
love  of  forest  scenery  which  so  frequently  show  them- 
selves in  Hippolyte  Taine's  works  and  correspondence. 
The  first  rudiments  of  Latin  were  also  taught  him  by 
the  young  father,  so  soon  to  be  taken  from  him,  and, 

2 


CHILDHOOD  AND  EDUCATION 

before  M.  J.  B.  A.  Taine's  precarious  health  compelled 
him  to  give  up  the  lessons  to  his  son,  the  boy  had  already 
acquired  a  solid  foundation  for  his  subsequent  studies. 
We  shall  see,  as  we  proceed  with  this  correspondence,  what 
Hippolyte  Taine's  mother  *  was  to  him  and  with  what 
devotion  and  solicitude  she  fulfilled  her  gentle  mission.- 
Nothing  was  more  touching  than  the  deep  affection  and 
perfect  confidence  which  united  the  son  to  his  mother, 
and  we  cannot  give  her  greater  praise  than  by  reproducing 
the  following  fragment  of  a  will  that  M.  Taine  wrote  in 
December,  1879,  a  few  months  before  losing  her  :  "If 
my  mother  survives  me,  my  wife  and  children  will  re- 
member that  for  forty  years  she  was  my  only  friend,  that 
she  afterwards  shared  with  them  the  first  place  in  my 
heart,  that  her  life  has  been  all  devotion  and  tenderness  ; 
they  will  try  to  fill  my  place,  to  bring  her  here  2 ;  what- 
ever I  may  have  done  and  whatever  they  may  do,  my 
debt  to  her  can  never  be  paid  ;  no  woman  ever  was  so 
perfect  a  mother." 

Two  of  Mme.  Taine's  brothers  also  took  a  particular 
interest  in  the  education  of  their  nephew  ;  the  elder, 
M.  Adolphe  Bezanson,  became,  at  his  brother-in-law's 
death,  the  guide  and  adviser  of  the  widow  and  orphans. 
The  younger,  Alexandre,  who  had  spent  several  years  in 
the  United  States,  took  a  pleasure,  on  his  return,  in  teach- 
ing English  to  his  young  nephew,  thus  rendering  him 
signal  service.  M.  Taine  remained  deeply  attached  and 

1  Nee  Marie  Virginia  Bezanson ;    she  was  her  husband's  first 
cousin. 

2  Boringe,  the  country  house  in  Savoie,  where  this  will  was 
written. 

3 


LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF  H.  TAINE 

grateful  to  him,  and  dedicated  the  Notes  sur  VAngleterre 
to  him  as  "  a  testimony  of  gratitude." 

Hippolyte  Taine's  early  education  was  therefore  given 

\     'him  entirely  by  his  family,  at  Vouziers  ;   he  only  spent  a 

few  hours  every  day  in  a  small  school  kept  by  M.  Pierson. 

He  received  the  Holy  Communion  for  the  first  time  when 

"*      still  very  young,  in  August,  1838.    When,  in  1839,  illness 

compelled  M.  J.  B.  A.  Taine  to  find  other  teachers  for  his 

son,  he  was  sent  to  a  boarding  school  at  Rethel,  kept  by 

^^^*^^ip*A^^j^^l0%Ji 

an  old  priest  and  his  sister,  a  former  nun,  where  he  re- 
mained eighteen  months,  until  his  father's  death.  He 
was  a  boarder,  but  under  the  immediate  supervision  of 
grandmother,  Mme.  M.  J.  Taine,  and  of  the  two  maiden 
aunts  already  mentioned  ;  he  spent  his  half-holidays  in 
the  old  family  house,  hunting  for  intellectual  pabulum 
on  the  dusty  shelves  of  an  old  bookcase  in  an  unused 
room.  He  devoured  everything  that  came  to  his  hands, 
especially  the  classical  authors  of  the  seventeenth  and 
eighteenth  centuries,  which  formed  the  chief  part  of  the 
reading  of  serious  middle-class  people  under  the  Restor- 
ation. His  uncles  also  made  him  a  present  about  this 
time  of  the  works  of  Washington  Irving,  in  English,  and 
of  two  large  volumes  of  the  Travels  of  Dumont  d'Urvitte. 
These  books,  which  are  still  in  his  library,  were  read  and 
re-read  by  him  again  and  again  ;  he  translated  some  of 
Washington  Irving's  tales,  and,  forty  years  later,  he  still 
used  to  speak  with  delight  of  this  outlook  over  a  larger 
world  of  which  he  had  already  had  a  glimpse  through  the 
conversation  of  his  uncle  from  America. 

He  ever  kept  a  happy  recollection  of  those  days  of  his 
childhood,  and  of  the  half-holidays  spent  at  his  grand- 

4 


CHILDHOOD  AND   EDUCATION 

mother's  house.  On  Sundays  he  was  spared  neither  high 
Mass  nor  Vespers,  and  the  sermons  seemed  long  to  the 
litttle  schoolboy,  hungering  for  freedom  ;  but,  when  he 
came  home,  there  were  the  little  Sunday  treats,  the  old 
cook's  tarts,  and,  above  all,  the  delectable  hours  of  silent 
reading,  when  he  would  become  absorbed  in  the  Arabian 
Nights  or  in  Rip  van  Winkle.  Thirteen  years  later  he 
wrote,  after  a  visit  to  his  relations  :  "I  am  glad  I  spent 
a  day  at  Rethel ;  their  ways  are  old-fashioned,  but  I  like 
them  because  they  are  natural  and  finished.  Also  they 
are  very  good  people,  and  there  is  something  within  me 
particularly  '  Rethelois,'  the  family  sentiment." 

M.  Taine  senior  having  succumbed,  during  the  holidays 
of  1840,  to  the  disease  which  was  killing  him,  M.  Adolphe 
Bezanson  persuaded  his  sister  to  seek  a  mode  of  instruc- 
tion less  imperfect  and  more  appropriate  to  the  precocious 
intelligence  of  the  young  Hippolyte  ;  he  chose  for  him  the 
Mathe  boarding-school,  the  scholars  of  w^^^~aTEen"6!e(3'tne 
classes  of  the  Bourbon  College.  Hippolyte  entered  this 
school  in  1S41,  at  the  age  of  thirteen  and  a  half.  Mine. 
Taine,  being  kept  at  Vouziers  by  the  winding  up  of  her 
husband's  estate,  was  obliged  to  send  her  son  to  Paris  by 
himself ;  but  the  boy  being  very  tender-hearted  and 
somewhat  fragile,  was  unable  to  bear  the  sorrow  of  separa- 
tion and  the  indifferent  catering  of  the  Parisian  boarding- 
school,  and  his  mother,  becoming  alarmed,  hastened  the 
arrangement  of  her  affairs  and  joined  him  in  Paris,  with 
her  two  daughters.  They  settled  down  in  the  Batignolles 
district,  which  was  at  that  time  rather  like  a  remote  country 
town,  and  then  began  the  life  of  ardent  labour  and  austere 
seclusion  which  young  Taine  was  to  lead  until  he  entered 

5 


LIFE    AND   LETTERS   OF   H.   TAINE 

the  Ecole  Normale.  He  was  at  that  time  far  from  think- 
ing of  a  professorial  or  literary  career,  and  it  was  not 
thought  of  for  him.  His  mother  wished  him  to  become 
a  notary,  like  his  two  uncles  ;  he  thought  of  nothing  but 
working  hard  and  learning  much.  When,  a  few  years 
later,  the  question  of  his  career  was  seriously  discussed  in 
the  family  council,  it  was  not  on  account  of  his  remark- 
able gifts  that  the  idea  of  his  becoming  a  notary  was 
abandoned,  but  because  prudence  would  not  allow  of 
the  disposal,  in  favour  of  one  person,  of  the  whole  modest 
fortune  of  the  Taine  family  which  would  have  been  neces- 
sitated by  the  purchase  of  a  practice. 

The  greatest  pleasures  of  this  studious  boyhood  were 
walks  in  the  Pare  Monceau — then  in  a  state  of  absolute 
neglect — into  which  Mme.  Taine  had  a  right  of  entry  ;  it 
was  almost  like  the  forest  of  his  childhood.  Then,  during 
the  holidays,  there  were  visits  to  M.  Adolphe  Bezanson,  at 
Poissy,  where  the  boy  spent  long  days  on  the  Seine,  angling 
with  his  uncles  ;  they  taught  him  to  swim,  a  form  of 
exercise  in  which  he  excelled  and  which  he  much  enjoyed 
all  through  his  life  ;  but  his  pleasantest  recollections 
were  of  the  long  hours  spent  by  the  water  which  shim- 
mered and  trembled  under  the  delicate  shadow  of  the 
willows,  and  of  his  solitary  rambles  in  the  forest  of  St. 
Germain. 

As  soon  as  he  arrived  in  Paris,  Hippolyte  Taine  drew 
tfp*  a  scheme  of  study  which  he  rigorously  observed,  and 
the  execution  of  which  was  made  easy  for  him  by  his 
serious  and  intellectual  environment.  His  grandfather, 
M.  Nicolas  Bezanson,  lived  in  the  same  house  as  Mme. 
Taine,  and  his  conversation  contributed  largely  to  the 

6 


CHILDHOOD  AND  EDUCATION 

boy's  scientific  development.  The  whole  family  was  full 
of  enthusiasm  for  work  ;  the  two  girls,  guided  by  their 
brother,  were  acquiring  a  literary  culture  rare  amongst 
women  of  their  time.  Art  was  not  neglected  ;  Hippolyte 
and  his  younger  sister,  Sophie,  were  passionately  fond  of 
music,  and  quarrelled  over  the  piano  during  the  leisure 
hour.  The  elder  sister,  Virginie,  who  had  a  great  gift  for 
painting,  excited  by  her  comments  the  artistic  curiosity 
of  her  brother,  and  accompanied  him  on  those  visits  to 
the  Louvre  Museum,  where  he  found  so  much  pleasure 
and  profit. 

At  the  Lycee  Bourbon,  he  formed  friendships  with 
Planat,  Crosnier  de  Varigny,  Prevost-Paradol,  Cornelius 
de  Witt,  Emile  Durier,  Emile  Saigey,  etc. 

Hippolyte  Taine,  whose  numerous  scholastic  triumphs 
were  a  source  of  pride  to  the  Mathe  school,  studied  rhe- 
toric T  and  philosophy  under  the  direction  of  a  very  dis- 
tinguished young  professor,  M.  Hatzfeldt,  who  soon  became 
his  friend.  |^  '4,  ++.  f>4*+A**nSjrvi 

M.  Hatzfeldt  carefully  preserved'  the  best  essays  of  his 
brilliant  pupil ;  he  was  proud  to  think  that  Hippolyte  Taine 
perhaps  owed  to  him  the  first  idea  of  his  work  on  La  Fon- 
taine ;  an  essay  on  Andromaque  probably  was  the  origin  of 
an  unpublished  work  on  the  three  Andromaches  (Euripides', 
Racine's,  and  Virgil's),  written  at  Nevers  in  January,  1852. 

During  this  school  year,  1846-1847,  besides  his  ordinary 

1  At  that  time  the  scholars  who  had  passed  through  the  seven 
first  classes  or  forms  (8me,  7"",  6me,  5me,  4"1',  .3""  and  2lle)  of  a 
French  Lycte  or  secondary  school,  usually  divided,  some  of  them 
choosing  mathematical  and  some  classical  studies ;  the  latter,  on 
leaving  the  seconde  class,  went  for  a  year  into  a  class  called 
Rhrtarique,  and  for  the  following  year  into  a  Philosophic  class. 

7 


LIFE    AND   LETTERS   OF   H.    TAINE 

college  work,  Hippolyte  Taine  wrote  many  private  essays, 
some  of  which  have  been  preserved,  amongst  others  a 
History  of  the  Church  in  France  from  the  Eleventh  to  the 
Sixteenth  Centuries,  followed  by  a  chapter  on  The  Refor- 
mation, a  History  of  the  Third  Estate  and  of  Parliament,  a 
History  of  the  French  Party  in  France  from  the  beginning 
of  tJie  Wars  of  Religion  until  the  death  of  Richelieu,  and  some 
Notes  on  French  Literature  of  the  Sixteenth  Century.  The 
average  length  of  these  essays  was  from  twenty  to  thirty 
pages  of  M.  Taine's  peculiarly  close  handwriting. 

A  humorous  poem,  written  in  the  same  year,  for  the 
St.  Charlemagne1  banquet  has  also  been  preserved,  and  a 
few  history  compositions,  of  which  one,  on  The  Origin, 
Development  and  Fall  of  the  League,  was  placed  first  on  the 
list  at  the  Lycee  Bourbon,  and  was  long  remembered  by 
Hippolyte  Taine's  schoolfellows. 

Twenty-one  years  later,  when  presiding  at  the  annual 
banquet  of  the  Lycee  Condorcet,  he  said,  thinking  of  this 
year  of  productive  study  : — 

"If  we  have  had  glimpses  of  ideas  in  criticism  and  in 
history,  they  have  been  suggested  to  us  by  the  study  of 
Rhetoric.  VWe  were  told  that  a  speech  should  be  appro- 
priate to  the  character  of  the  speaker,  and  this  led  us  to 
study  those  characters  :  we  went  to  the  Public  Library, 
to  the  Louvre  Museum,  to  the  Cabinet  des  Estampes  ;  we 
discovered  by  degrees  in  what  way  a  modern  man  differs 
from  an  ancient,  a  Christian  from  a  Pagan,  a  Roman  from 

1  The  Emperor  Charlemagne  is  the  patron  saint  of  French  schools, 
and  school  festivities  are  held  in  Paris  every  year  on  his  name-day. 
A  banquet  takes  place,  during  which  several  students  are  invited  to 
recite  original  verses  or  to  make  speeches. 

8 


CHILDHOOD  AND   EDUCATION 

a  Greek,  and  a  Roman  of  the  time  of  Augustus  from  a 
Roman  of  the  time  of  Scipio.  We  endeavoured  to  express 
those  differences,  and  we  began  to  guess  at  the  real  history, 
which  is  that  of  the  soul,  of  the  deep  alterations  which  take 
place  in  hearts  and  minds,  according  to  the  changes  in 
their  physical  and  moral  environment.". 

The  first  letters  we  propose  to  publish  were  addressed 
to  M.  Hatzfeldt. 

To  M.  Hatzfeldt. 

August  13, 1847. 

SIR, — You  probably  know  by  this  time  that  I  won  the 
Prix  (THonneur  at  the  Concours  General.1  I  could  not 
inform  you  of  it  beforehand,  I  myself  only  heard  it  on 
Wednesday  evening ;  and,  even  if  I  had  written  to  you  at 
once,  you  would  have  seen  it  in  the  papers  before  receiving 
my  letter.  I  had,  besides,  three  access-its  at  the  Concours 
and  all  the  first  prizes  at  the  Lycee. 

I  owe  all  this  success  to  you,  and  I  thank  you  for  it. 
Without  you  I  should  never  have  acquired  order,  clearness 
or  method.  They  told  me  at  school  to  be  clear,  regular 
and  methodical ;  you  alone  did  not  content  yourself  with 
words,  you  showed  me  the  way  to  acquire  those  qualities. 
If  I  succeed  hereafter  it  will  be  thanks  to  your  lessons,  for 
you  have  taught  me  to  work  and  to  direct  my  mind,  and 
you  will  be  useful  to  me  in  the  future  as  you  are  in  the 
present.  I  shall  follow  the  advice  you  have  given  me  for 
these  holidays.  I  have  Descartes  in  hand,  and,  amongst 
my  prizes,  I  have  just  received  M.  Jouffroy's  Lectures  on 

1  Concours  General.  An  open  competition  held  every  year 
between  the  tlite  of  the  students  of  all  the  lyctes  in  France. 

9 


LIFE   AND   LETTERS   OF   H.    TAINE 

Natural  Law.  We  shall  meet  again  next  year,  I  hope.  I 
think  I  can  promise  that  you  will  find  in  me  a  great  taste 
for  philosophy,  perhaps  also  a  little  natural  calent.  If  I  am 
not  mistaken,  if  seems  to  me  that  I  have  always  had  some 
facility  in  understanding  abstract  things,  and  in  finding  out 
generalities.  Perhaps  it  is  peculiar  to  a  cold  and  serious 
mind  to  enjoy  the  speculations  of  philosophy ;  anyhow,  I 
remember  that  last  year  I  was  delighted  to  listen  to  your 
lectures. 

Once  again,  Sir,  accept  my  thanks.  If  a  strong  appre- 
ciation of  your  services  and  kindness  to  me  could  suffice  in 
paying  my  debt  of  gratitude  to  you,  it  certainly  would  be 
paid  in  full. 

To  the  same. 

October  7,  1847. 

SIR, — We  had  hoped  to  find  you  at  the  school  to-day, 
Thursday,  as  usual,  if  not  to  give  us  a  lesson,  at  least  to  fix 
the  hours  and  days  of  our  lectures.  M.  Lemeignan1  desires 
you  to  come  on  Saturday  or  Monday,  as  you  please,  to  confer 
with  him  and  with  us.  As  for  me,  in  particular,  I  long 
more  than  ever  for  your  presence.  M.  Jourdain  is  not 
coming  to  the  College  Bourbon  this  year  ;  and,  from  what 
I  saw  at  the  first  lesson,  I  believe  that  without  your  help 
I  shall  work  quite  in  vain.  You  alone  can  point  out  to  me 
what  to  read,  give  a  direction  to  my  studies,  and  make  them 
profitable  and  useful,  as  you  did  for  those  of  last  year." 

1  M.  Math6's  successor. 


10 


CHAPTER    II 

The    Philosophy   Class — Introduction    to    the 
"  Human   Destiny  " 

THE  studies  of  the  year  1847-1848  were  indeed  profit- 
able ;  at  the  Bourbon  College  Hippolyte  Taine  had  as 
Professor  of  Physics  M.  Desains,  and  his  philosophy  pro- 
fessors were  MM.  Bernard  and  Lorquet.  He  preserved 
some  excellent  notes  of  their  classes,  as  well  as  a  certain 
number  of  dissertations.  During  his  leisure  hours  he  also 
undertook  private  work;  we  have  been  able  to  find  three 
studies  on  Jounroy,  some  essays  on  the  Faculties  of  the 
Sold,  on  Exterior  Perception,  on  Spinoza's  Pantheism,  a 
dialogue  on  the  Immortality  of  the  Soul,  a  treatise  on 
the  Beautiful,  in  the  shape  of  a  letter  to  Emile  Planat; 
and,  lastly,  a  treatise  On  Human  Destiny.  This  last  work, 
dated  March,  1848,  begins  by  a  sort  of  intellectual  con- 
fession, showing  the  evolution  of  his  ideas,  from  the  age 
of  fifteen  until  the  middle  of  his  year  in  the  Philosophy 
Class.  This  document  will  no  doubt  be  read  with  interest. 

"  OF  HUMAN  DESTINY — INTRODUCTION 

This  work  is  not  the  result  of  hazard  or  of  curiosity  ;  it 
is  neither  a  philosophical  amusement  nor  an  idle  research. 
It  is  the  answer  to  a  question  which  I  have  long  put  to 

11 


LIFE   AND   LETTERS  OF  H.   TAINE 

myself ;  it  is  the  close  of  a  slow  revolution  which  has 
taken  place  in  my  mind. 

There  are  certain  minds  who  live  confined  within  them- 
selves, and  for  whom  passions,  joys,  sorrows  and  actions 
are  altogether  inward.  I  am  of  that  number;  and,  if  I 
would  look  back  upon  my  life,  I  should  have  but  to 
recollect  the  changes,  uncertainties,  and  progress  of  my 
thought.  If  I  am  now  writing  this,  it  is  in  order  to  find  it 
again  later,  and  know  then  what  I  was  now. 

Until  the  age  of  fifteen  I  lived  in  ignorance  and  tranquil- 
lity. I  had  not  yet  thought  of  the  future ;  I  knew  nothing 
of  it ;  I  was  a  Christian,  and  I  had  never  asked  myself 
what  this  life  is  worth,  where  I  came  from,  and  what  I 
had  to  do.  .  .  .  Reason  appeared  in  me  like  a  beacon 
light.  I  began  to  suspect  that  there  was  something  be- 
yond what  I  had  seen,  and  to  grope  as  in  darkness. 
My  religious  faith  was  the  first  thing  which  fell  before 
this  spirit  of  inquiry.  One  doubt  provoked  another  ; 
each  article  of  belief  dragged  another  down  with  it  in  its 
fall.  ...  I  felt  within  myself  enough  honour  and  strength 
of  will  to  live  as  a  good  man,  even  after  losing  my  re- 
ligion. I  esteemed  my  reason  too  highly  to  believe  in 
another  authority  than  its  own  :  I  refused  to  recognize 
rules  for  my  life  and  the  conduct  of  my  thoughts  from 
any  other  person  ;  I  became  indignant  at  the  idea  of  being 
virtuous  through  fear  and  a  believer  through  obedience. 
Pride  and  the  love  of  liberty  had  freed  me. 

The  three  following  years  were  happy,  three  years  of 
research  and  discovery.  I  thought  but  of  enlarging  my 
intelligence,  increasing  my  knowledge,  and  acquiring  a 
sentiment  of  Truth  and  of  the  Beautiful.  I 
12 


CHILDHOOD  AND  EDUCATION 

ardently  studied  History  and  Antiquity,  ever  seeking  for 
general  truths,  aspiring  to  the  knowledge  of  the  whole,  i.e. 
of  Man  and  of  Society.  I  still  remember  my  extraordinary 
delight  when  I  read  M.  Guizot's  lectures  on  European 
Civilization.  It  was  like  a  revelation  ;  I  began  to  look 
for  the  general  laws  of  History,  then  for  the  general  laws 
of  the  art  of  writing.  In  my  inexperience  and  audacious 
confidence,  I  dared  to  tackle  a  number  of  questions  which 
should  only  be  treated  by  very  learned  men  of  a  matured 
mind.  But  the  vanity  of  my  efforts  and  the  insufficiency 
of  my  discoveries  soon  recalled  me  to  common  sense.  I 
understood  that  before  knowing  the  Destiny  of  Man  I  must 
know  Man  himself.  Thus  were  conceived  my  first  ideas 
of  Philosophy,  which  developed  very  much  during  the  time 
I  spent  in  the  rhetorique  class  :  this  came  from  the  necessity 
in  which  I  found  myself  of  knowing  the  character  of  the 
men  in  whose  name  I  wrote,  of  appreciating  the  value  ofy 
their  motives,  of  judging  of  the  passions  which  should  move 
them,  and  of  the  tone  which  they  should  take.  It  was 
essential  to  study  philosophy  in  order  to  avoid  the  monotony 
of  common-place.  At  the  same  time,  a  great  deal  of 
private  work  and  some  serious  reading  excited  my  mental 
activity,  and  provided  me  with  materials  for  my  researches. 
It  was  then  that  I  returned  to  true  Philosophy,  and  to 
the  important  questions  which  I  had  already  considered 
at  the  beginning.  In  spite  of  the  loss  of  my  Christianity 
I  had  preserved  natural  beliefs  :  I  believed  in  the  existence  '' 
of  God,  in  the  Immortality  of  the  Soul,  and  in  the  Law  of 
Duty.  I  now  came  to  examine  on  what  foundations  I 
rested  those  beliefs  :  I  found  probabilities  and  no  certain- 
ties ;  I  iound  the  proofs  offered  me  weak,  it  seemed  to  me 

13 


LIFE    AND   LETTERS   OF   H.    TAINE 

that  a  contrary  opinion  might  contain  an  equal  share  of 
truth,  or  rather  it  seemed  to  me  that  all  opinions  were 
probable.  I  became  sceptical  towards  Science  and  Morality, 
I  went  to  the  extreme  limits  of  doubt,  and  it  seemed  to  me 
that  every  basis  of  knowledge  and  of  belief  was  overturned. 

So  far  I  had  read  no  philosopher,  I  had  desired  to  preserve 
entire  freedom  for  my  mind,  and  a  complete  independence 
for  my  inquiry.  I  was,  therefore,  at  that  time  full  of  a 
proud  joy.  I  exulted  in  the  havoc  I  had  made  ;  I  revelled 
in  exercising  my  intelligence  against  the  opinions  of  the 
vulgar,  I  thought  myself  superior  to  those  who  believed, 
because,  when  I  questioned  them,  they  gave  me  no  sound 
proof  of  their  belief.  I  continued  to  go  forward,  until  one 
day,  when  I  found  I  had  left  nothing  standing. 

Then  I  felt  saddened  ;  I  had  wounded  myself  in  what  I 
held  most  dear  :  I  had  denied  the  authority  of  the  intellect 
which  I  esteemed  so  highly.  I  found  myself  in  a  vacuum,  in 
nothingness,  lost  and  engulfed.  What  could  I  do  ?  All  my 
beliefs  being  struck  down,  Reason  counselled  immobility 
and  Nature  ordered  activity.  Man  cannot  remain  inactive, 
his  life  is  a  continual  aspiration,  a  ceaseless  movement ; 
for  him,  not  to  act  is  to  die.  1  was,  moreover,  at  that  age 
when  vitality  is  powerful,  when  activity  abounds,  when 
the  soul  seeks  for  something  to  which  to  cling,  like  those 
climbing  plants,  which,  at  the  return  of  spring,  seize  the 
trunk  of  the  tree  with  all  their  strength,  in  order  to  come 
out  of  the  shade  and  to  open  their  flowers  in  the  sunshine. 
I  had  an  ardent  love  of  Science  and  of  Art,  of  the  Beautiful 
and  of  the  True.  I  felt  myself  capable  of  great  efforts,  of 
tenacious  perseverance,  if  only  I  had  an  object  to  attain, 
a  design  to  fulfil.  I  felt  a  passionate  admiration  in  the 

14 


CHILDHOOD  AND  EDUCATION 

presence  of  beautiful  things,  and  especially  the  beauties 
of  Nature  ;  and  I  suffered  when  I  thought  that  I  did  not 
know  how  to  make  use  of  all  this  ardour  and  strength* 
Besides,  I  was  master  of  myself ;  I  had  accustomed  my  body 
and  my  soul  to  obey  my  will ;  and  I  had  thus  preserved, 
myself  from  those  bestial  passions  which  blind  and  bewilder 
Man,  take  him  from  the  study  of  his  destiny,  and  make  him 
live  like  an  animal,  ignorant  of  the  present,  and  careless  of 
the  future.  My  whole  soul,  therefore,  turned  towards  the 
desire  to  know,  and  consumed  itself  all  the  more  because 
it  concentrated  all  its  strength  and  all  its  desire  on  one  point 
only. 

During  my  first  months  in  the  Philosophy  class,  this  state 
of  mind  was  unbearable  ;  I  saw  nothing  but  doubt  and 
obscurity.  I  found  in  philosophers  nothing  but  contradic- 
tions ;  I  considered  their  proofs  puerile  or  incomprehen- 
sible ;  it  seemed  to  me  that  metaphysics  obscured  common 
sense,  and  that  philosophers,  from  the  heights  of  their 
speculations,  had  not  foreseen  the  simple  and  natural  objec- 
tions which  ruined  their  systems.  I  myself,  irritated  at 
the  uselessness  of  my  efforts,  began  to  play  with  my  reason, 
I  took  pleasure  in  supporting  alternate  sides  of  the  question; 
I  put  scepticism  into  practice.  Then,  tired  of  contradic- 
tions, I  placed  my  mind  at  the  service  of  the  newest  and 
most  poetical  opinion,  I  supported  Pantheism  with  all 
my  heart.  I  affected  to  speak  as  an  artist ;  this  new  world 
pleased  me,  and  I  amused  myself  by  exploring  it  in  all  its 
parts.  This  was  my  salvation,  for,  from  that  moment, 
metaphysics  appeared  to  me  intelligible,  and  science  seemed 
serious.  I  reached,  after  much  effort,  a  height  from  which 
I  could  embrace  the  whole  of  the  philosophical  horizon, 

15 


LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF  H.  TAINE 

understand  the  opposition  of  systems,  see  the  birth  of  opi- 
nions, discover  the  knot  of  divergences  and  the  solution  of 
difficulties.  I  learnt  what  to  examine  in  order  to  find  out 
what  was  fallacious  and  what  was  true,  I  saw  the  point 
towards  which  my  researches  should  tend.  Moreover, 
I  was  already  in  possession  of  Method,  which  I  had  studied 
from  curiosity,  and  for  my  own  amusement.  Henceforth 
I  ardently  set  to  work  ;  the  clouds  dispersed,  I  understood 
the  origin  of  my  errors,  I  perceived  the  Whole  and  the  con- 
necting links.  I  will  now  set  down  what  I  believe  I  have 
found  ;  but,  at  this  very  moment,  I  pledge  myself  to  con- 
tinue  my  researches,  never  pausing,  never  considering  that 
I  know  everything,  and  ever  examining  my  principles  anew  ; 
it  is  only  thus  that  Truth  can  be  reached." 

We  know  how,  until  his  last  breath,  this  pledge  made  by 
the  student  of  twenty  was  kept  by  the  man. 


CHAPTER  III 

Admission  Examinations  to   the   Ecole   Nor- 
male — Correspondence 

HIPPOLYTE  TAINE  crowned  this  year  in  the  Philosophy 
Class  by  taking  his  two  degrees  of  bachelier-es-sciences 
and  bachelier-es-lettres,  and  brilliantly  passing  the  admis- 
sion examinations  to  the  Ecole  Normale  Superieure.1  He 
was  placed  second  on  the  nomination  list  of  candidates, 
and  passed  first  among  a  batch  of  students,  which  included 
Edmond  About,  Francisque  Sarcey,  Libert,  Edouard  de 
Suckau,  Auguste  Lamm,  Paul  Albert,  Gustave  Merlat, 
Rieder,  etc.,  etc.  Prevost-Paradol  followed  one  year  later, 
Hippolyte  Taine  having  done  all  he  could  to  attract  him  to 
this  path,  and  they  began  as  early  as  their  separation  in 
August,  1848,  the  interesting  correspondence  of  which 
numerous  extracts  will  be  found  here. 

1  £cole  Normale  Sup'-riewe.  Founded  in  1808  by  Napoleon  I., 
with  the  object  of  training  young  professors.  Candidates  for  ad- 
mission must  already  be  in  possession  of  their  diploma  as  Bachelor 
of  Science  or  of  Letters,  according  to  the  branch  of  studies  which 
they  wish  to  take  up  ;  they  sign  an  engagement  for  ten  years'  work 
in  Public  Education.  The  Professors  of  the  Ecole  Normale  take 
the  title  of  Maitres  des  Conferences. 

17  C 


LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF  H.  TAINE 

To  Provost-Par  add. 

August  20,  1848. 

MY  DEAR  PREVOST, — I  began  my  holiday  two  days  ago  ; 
I  worked  from  the  llth  to  the  17th  for  my  baccalaurdat-ds- 
sciences.1  and  I  have  passed,  thank  goodness  ;  I  shall  now 
make  a  proper  use  of  the  two  months'  holidays  which  are 
left  to  me,  and  pick  up  my  health  and  strength.  I  am 
doing  no  reading,  no  study,  no  thinking,  but  living  the  life 
of  an  oyster,  of  a  mollusc,  of  anything  you  like.  I  revel  in 
the  country  and  the  open  air,  I  rejoice  in  rest  and  indolence, 
and  I  roam  over  fields  and  woods  without  taking  a  book 
with  me  save  Plato,  and  sometimes  Euripides.  My  philo- 
sophy is  not  without  its  use  in  my  pleasures.  I  find  Nature 
a  hundred  times  more  beautiful  since  I  have  pondered  on 
what  she  is  ;  now,  when  I  gaze  on  the  slow  movements  of 
the  trees,  the  play  of  light,  the  richness  and  luxury  of  all 
those  forms  and  all  those  colours,  when  I  listen  to  those  soft, 
continuous,  uncertain  and  harmonious  murmurs  which 
alternately  rise  and  fall  in  the  woods,  I  feel  the  presence  of 
Universal  Life.  I  no  longer  look  upon  the  world  as  a 
machine  but  an  animal.  I  find  that  solitude  becomes 
animated  and  speaking,  and  that  my  soul  easily  attunes 

1  Baccalaureat  (low  Latin,  bachalariatus),  first  degree  taken  in 
a  French  Faculty  ;  the  next  is  licence,  and  the  next  doctorate.  It 
is  much  more  elementary  than  a  Bachelor's  degree  in  an  English 
University.  There  are  two  baccalaureate — 1°,  the  baccalaureat- 
es-lettres  required  of  candidates  for  the  Faculties  of  Medicine  and  of 
Law,  to  the  Ecole  Normale  Superieure  and  to  several  public  offices  ; 
2°,  the  baccalaureat-e«-sctences  required  for  admission  to  the 
Schools  of  Medicine  and  of  Pharmacy,  to  the  Ecole  Normale  Su- 
perieure (scientific  section),  and  the  Polytechnic,  Military,  and 
Foresters'  Schools. 

18 


CHILDHOOD  AND  EDUCATION 

itself  to  this  simple  and  apparently  slumbering  life,  which 
is  the  life  of  beings  inferior  to  Man. 

Would  you  have  thought  that  Philosophy  would  lead  to 
all  this  ?  Do  take  it  up,  and  settle  down  to  it  bravely  and 
seriously  next  year.  If  not,  dear  friend,  your  year  will  be 
wasted  and  even  harmful.  I  know  you :  if  you  indulge 
yourself  and  do  not  resist  your  own  tastes,  you  will  seek 
in  Philosophy,  as  you  did  in  History,  for  nothing  but  a 
means  of  proving  your  preconceived  ideas,  you  will  make 
use  of  reasoning  and  metaphysics  to  attack  all  the  common 
and  ordinary  opinions  ;  you  will  eagerly  embrace  every 
system  which  appears  to  you  bold  and  audacious,  and  it 
will  be  sufficient  that  a  thing  should  seem  to  you  beautiful 
for  you  to  say  :  It  is  true. 

I  could  wager,  for  instance,  that  you  will  give  up  six 
months'  work  to  demonstrating  that  God  does  not  exist, 
and  do  you  know  why  ?  Because  the  human  race  before 
you  has  believed  in  Him.  Consider,  my  friend,  that  this  God 
whose  existence  seems  to  me  to  be  mathematically  proven, 
is  not  the  absurd  and  cruel  tyrant  taught  by  religions,  and 
worshipped  b>  ne  vulgar  ;  consider  also  that  neither  is  He 
Bossuet's  God-man,  busy  saving  or  destroying  empires, 
and  founding  His  Church  ;  finally,  do  not  forget  that  if  I 
believe  in  Him,  it  is  not  because  I  never  doubted,  nor  from 
habit  or  sentiment ;  but  after  reasonings  and  demonstra- 
tions more  rigorous  than  those  of  geometry.  Therefore,  do 
work  without  prejudices,  do  not  let  your  leaning  towards 
new  ideas  prejudge  the  question  ;  give  in  but  to  reason  and 
evidence,  and  you  will  end,  I  hope,  by  sharing  my  convic- 
tions. 

That  which  prevented  you  this  year  from  accepting  them 

19 


LIFE   AND   LETTERS   OF   H.   TAINE 

was  the  fact  that  your  mind  was  not  yet  accustomed  to 
metaphysical  evidence  ;  you  only  believed  what  you  could 
feel  and  touch,  but,  as  soon  as  you  have  accustomed  your 
intellect  to  reflect  upon  and  consider  pure  ideas,  freed  from 
their  material  coverings,  in  all  their  simplicity  and  clearness, 
you  will  see  the  true  light  and  acquire  perfect  conviction. 

I  lay  great  stress  on  this  question  of  the  existence  and 
nature  of  God,  because  it  is  in  reality  the  only  question  in 
philosophy  ;  if  you  are  strict  in  your  researches,  if  you 
aspire  to  go  back  to  the  fountain-head,  you  will  ever  be 
obliged  to  return  to  God  ;  if  you  wish  to  know  the  Beau- 
tiful, the  Good,  the  True,  if  you  wish  to  prove  that  there  is 
a  rule  of  conduct  for  Man,  an  immutable  goal  for  the  artist, 
an  absolute  certainty  for  the  scientist,  you  will  be  obliged 
to  examine  the  nature  of  God,  and  to  believe  in  Him.  If 
the  word  God  shocks  you,  suppress  it,  and  say  in  its  stead  : 
"  the  Being,"  but  whatever  name  you  give  Him,  believe  in 
the  existence  of  a  Being,  who  has  the  whole  fulness  of 
the  Being,  and  in  whom  there  is  no  lack,  no  defect. 

Here  is  a  demonstration  of  this  in  six  lines  :  ponder  over 
it  and  find,  if  you  can,  that  it  is  wrong  in  any  one  point : 
see  how  simple  it  is  ;  it  sets  down  no  premiss,  and  does  not 
claim  as  a  postulate  the  existence  of  anything. 

There  are  but  three  possibilities  : — 

1.  That  nothing  exists  at  all ; 

2.  That  an  imperfect   being  or  some  imperfect  beings 
exist ; 

3.  That  a  being  exists  who  has  the  plenitude  of  the  being. 
Several  beings  having  the  plenitude  of  the  being  are  impos- 
sible because  they  would  limit  each  other. 

The  first  hypothesis  is  absurd  in  its  own  terms,  for  the 

20 


CHILDHOOD  AND  EDUCATION 

existence  of  nothingness  is  contradictory.  Nothingness  is 
incomprehensible.  It  is  as  much  as  to  say  that  non-being 
is,  and  that  what  does  not  exist  exists. 

The  second  hypothesis  is  equally  absurd.  If  the  existing 
Being  is  imperfect  or  lacking  part  of  the  being,  another  can 
be  conceived  in  its  stead  having  more  or  less  of  the  being. 
Another  being  will  therefore  be  possible  instead  of  the  one 
which  now  is.  There  will,  therefore,  be  no  reason  why  the 
one  which  exists  should  exist  rather  than  that  other,  since 
both  are  equally  possible.  The  existing  Being  will  therefore 
have  no  reason  to  exist,  and  will  be  without  a  cause,  which 
is  absurd  ;  for  everything  has  its  reason  for  existing,  either 
within  or  outside  itself. 

Therefore,  the  third  hypothesis  stands  necessarily,  and 
the  evidence  of  God's  existence  is  the  impossibility  of  any 
other  existence. 

You  see  that  I  take  into  consideration  none  of  those 
things  which  are  perhaps  obscure,  such  as  Notion,  Ideas, 
and  Matter,  and  that  my  whole  proof  is  taken  from  the  very 
terms  of  the  question. 

I  am  boring  you,  no  doubt,  my  dear  fellow ;  but,  forgive  me, 
it  is  in  the  interest  of  our  friendship  that  I  do  so.  For  how 
could  our  intimacy  last  if  we  were  not  of  the  same  mind  on 
a  question  upon  which  depend  not  only  our  opinions,  but 
our  actions  and  the  conduct  of  our  lives  ?  Close  and 
sincere  friendships  have  been  broken  by  political  disagree- 
ments, how  much  more  should  our  friendship  become  cooled 
if  we  had  conflicting  convictions  about  God,  the  world, 
human  life,  in  fact  everything. 

Talking  of  politics,  how  you  did  make  me  laugh  the  other 
day  !  Are  you  mad  with  your  N.  ?  why  upset  his  poor 

21 


LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF  H.  TAINE 

brain  ?  He  thinks  himself  profound  by  thinking  as  you 
do  !  And  you  dare  to  corrupt  him  while  you  own  to  me 
that  you  could  not  make  head  or  tail  of  M.  Proud' hon's 
theories.1  If  you  have  become  a  Proud'honite,  send  me, 
if  you  can,  a  demonstration  of  the  Right  to  Work',  if  not, 
hold  thy  peace. 
Send  me  a  letter  as  long  as  this  one.  Farewell. 

To  the  same. 

September  1,  1848. 

MY  DEAR  PREVOST, — Yours  is  certainly  the  most  satirical 
letter  I  have  ever  received.  Do  you  know  that  it  is  hard 
for  an  apprentice  in  philosophy  to  hear  his  demonstration 
called  theological  puns,  cassocked  quibbles,  unintelligible 
pedantry,  etc.  ? 

I  recognized  your  usual  chaff,  and  even  your  affection, 
for  I  can  feel  through  the  whole  of  your  epistle  that  you 
are  only  half-mocking,  that  you  are  sparing  me,  and  keeping 
back  half  your  sarcasms  and  insults.  All  right,  my  dear 
fellow,  strike,  but  hear  me. 

You  begin  by  reproaching  me  with  what  you  call  a  slight 
contradiction,  and  you  call  upon  me,  in  order  to  avoid  con- 
sistency, to  believe  in  God  no  longer,  or  no  longer  to  speak 
of  the  world  as  an  animal.  It  seems  to  me  that  here  you 
make  little  use  of  the  logic  which  you  despise.  I  do  not  see 
that  those  two  beliefs  are  incompatible.  What  is  there 
absurd  in  saying  that  the  world,  emanating  from  God 

1  Pierre  Joseph  Proud'hon's  principal  writings,  Avertissement 
aux  proprietaires,  Solution  du  Probleme  Social,  Le  Droit  au  Travail, 
had  already  been  published  at  that  time,  and  were  being  eagerly 
discussed. 

22 


CHILDHOOD  AND  EDUCATION 

and  produced  by  Him,  is  a  living  being  which  develops 
and  perpetually  tends  to  resemble  the  eternal  model  from 
whose  hands  it  has  come  ? 

You  declare  yourself  a  Pantheist  and  a  Sceptic.  Allow 
me  to  tell  you  that  it  is  you  who  are  contradicting  yourself, 
as  it  is  impossible  to  be  at  the  same  time  a  Pantheist,  who 
has  a  belief,  and  a  Sceptic,  who  has  none — unless,  however, 
you  call  yourself  a  Pantheist  provisionally,  a  Pantheist 
because  the  system  is  a  bold  and  a  beautiful  one.  If  that 
is  so,  you  are  again  mistaken  ;  the  system  is  an  ugly  and 
narrow  one,  for  it  lops  off  all  His  attributes  from  the  Being, 
and  puts  in  the  place  of  the  perfect  and  absolute  model  a 
blind  substance,  ever  reaching  towards  an  infinite  develop- 
ment, which  it  can  only  attain  in  the  infinite,  i.e.  that  it 
will  never  attain. 

If  I  exhorted  you  to  take  up  philosophy,  it  is  not  because 
I  feared  to  see  you  become  a  bad  man.  Did  you  perchance 
take  me  for  a  monkish  preacher  ?  Not  at  all ;  but  I  know 
that,  in  order  to  keep  up  a  true  intimacy,  similar  opinions 
are  necessary,  and  that  two  men  whose  convictions  are 
absolutely  antagonistic  cannot  be  real  friends. 

Let  us  now  look  at  my  opinions  and  see  whether  my 
metaphysical  researches  are  as  ridiculous  as  you  say.  Here 
is  something  like  what  you  tell  me  :  "I  know  nothing  of 
the  principle  or  origin  of  this  world,  of  which  I  am  a  part ; 
I  have  never  seriously  examined  whether  God  exists  or  not ; 
I  do  not  know  whither  this  world  is  going,  nor  what  is  the 
end  or  destiny  of  the  human  race.  I  do  not  know  whether 
I  have  a  spiritual  soul,  or  whether  everything  takes  place 
within  me  mechanically  by  the  effect  of  my  organs  ;  I  do 
not  know  what  is  Death,  or  whether  I  shall  live  beyond  it. 

23 


LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF  H.  TAINE 

All  this  does  not  worry  me,  and  I  will  not  even  think  about 
it.  I  have  very  passionate  political  opinions,  and  there 
is  a  party  whose  triumph  I  ardently  desire,  so  much  so  that 
I  would  shoulder  a  gun  to  assist  it.  I  want  radical  reforms 
in  Society  and  in  Government ;  I  want  the  inauguration 
of  the  reign  of  Justice — and  I  do  not  know  what  is  Society, 
what  is  a  Government,  what  is  Justice,  what  is  Right.  I 
rule  my  life  after  my  own  feelings,  and  I  do  not  know  whether 
I  am  right  in  acting  thus.  There  is  some  one  who  was  in 
the  same  state  of  uncertainty  as  I  am,  and  who  now  says 
he  has  found  a  series  of  mathematical  demonstrations  on 
all  these  matters.  This  some  one  invites  me  to  follow  the 
same  path  as  himself,  and  to  study  the  science  which  has 
cured  his  doubts  ;  but  I  despise  this  science.  Without 
having  thought  two  hours  over  it,  I  declare  that  all  it  is 
good  for  is  to  set  a  plate  rotating  on  the  point  of  a  needle. 
I  prefer  the  uncertainty  of  doubt  to  the  repose  of  conviction. 
I  want  to  live  from  instinct  like  an  animal.  I  risk  my  life 
and  I  put  myself  in  the  way  of  taking  the  worst  and  most 
unfortunate  decision.  I  close  my  eyes  so  as  not  to  see, 
and,  happy  in  my  ignorance  and  indigence,  I  rail  at  the 
inept  and  ridiculous  man  who  calls  upon  me  to  come  out 
of  it." 

Tell  me,  my  friend,  do  you  call  this  consistent  language  ? 
You  had  not  come  to  that  a  month  ago  ;  you  owned  to  me 
in  confidence  that  you  did  not  believe  in  M.  Proud'hon, 
and  that,  if  you  read  his  writings,  it  was  in  order  to  look 
upon  the  flight  of  a  powerful  and  logical  mind  and  not  to 
seek  for  convictions.  You  promised  me  that  you  would 
abstain  until  you  entered  the  Philosophy  class,  and  that 
you  would  then  build  a  foundation  for  your  doctrines.  You 

24 


CHILDHOOD   AND  EDUCATION 

were  an  absolute  sceptic  and  I  was  glad  of  it,  for  it  is  the 
best  frame  of  mind  in  which  to  begin  the  study  of  meta- 
physics. What  wasp  has  stung  you  since  then  ?  Whence 
came  these  materialistic  convictions,  this  indifference 
towards  truth  ?  Do  you  not  know  that  nothing  is  more 
vulgar  than  such  a  state  of  mind,  and  that  such  is  the 
disposition  of  all  those  who  do  not  feel  that  they  have 
enough  strength  for  seeking  and  for  finding  ?  Do  you  not 
esteem  yourself  more  than  to  entrust  your  life  to  the  ha- 
zards of  a  doubting  opinion  ?  And  do  you  not  know  that 
Doubt — except  Pascal's  form  of  doubt — is  cowardly  ? 

Forgive  me  if  I  am  harsh  ;  I  want  to  pull  you  together 
and  see  you  yourself  again.  I  repeat,  it  is  not  manly  to 
speak  as  you  do. 

I  am  not  answering  your  political  opinions  ;  they  rest 
on  no  proof,  and  I  accept  nothing  that  is  not  demonstrated. 
Besides,  you  contradict  yourself ;  did  you  not  agree  un- 
reservedly with  a  treatise  I  showed  you  on  the  State  and 
the  Government  ?  x  it  was  absolutely  contrary  to  what 
you  are  saying  now,  and  in  it  I  proved  every  assertion  I 
made. 

Farewell,  and,  once  again,  forgive  the  strong  expressions 
I  have  used,  as  I  have  only  been  so  outspoken  because  I 
love  you  and  am  sincerely  attached  to  you. 

I  am  classed  second  on  the  admission  list,  Libert  first, 
and  About  third. 

Yours. 

1  Marginal  note  by  Hippolyte  Taine,  summing  up  this  work : 
1.  The  origin  of  the  Slate  is  the  aggregation  of  a  certain  number 

of  men,  presenting  particular  points  of  similarity,  and  placed  in 

similar  conditions  of  development. 

25 


LIFE   AND   LETTERS   OF   H.    TAINE 

2.  The  State  becomes  formed  when  the  nation  becomes  conscious 
of  its  unity. 

3.  The  State  is  a  living,  public  personality,  formed  by  the  assem- 
blage of  a  certain  portion  of  the  Being  of  all  the  individuals  who 
exist  within  it. 

4.  The  State  has  divers  degrees  of  Being,  according  to  the  greater 
or  less  degree  of  their  ego  placed  in  common  by  the  individuals. 
The  Being  of  the  State  increases  by  the  Law  of  Progress. 

5.  Government  is  the  sensible  and  active  realization  of  the  State, 
which  acquires  a  precise  unit  and  a  centre  of  action.     It  is  the  effect 
of  the  State. 

6.  Its  action  must  be  regulated  and  appropriate  to  the  degree  of 
Being  of  the  public  personality.     Its  duty  is  to  maintain  this  ap- 
propriateness exactly.     Its  rights  are  the  same  as  those  of  an  in- 
dividual, since  it  is  the  assemblage  of  several  individuals. 

7.  These  individuals,  social  and  human  units,  have  the  same  laws, 
and  are  formed  gradually  ;   the  second  from  the  first,  and  the  third 
from  the  second. 


26 


PART  II 
THE  ECOLE  NORMALE 

CHAPTER  I 

First  Year — New  Surroundings — Preparation 
for  the  Licentiate  ;   Private  Works — 
Correspondence 

HIPPOLYTE  TAINE  entered  the  Ecole  Normale  in  November, 
1848,  with  the  brilliant  batch  of  students  of  whom  he  was 
the  head.  There  he  met  other  most  distinguished  com- 
rades, several  of  whom  became  his  friends  :  Alfred  Assol- 
lant,  Challemel-Lacour,  J.  J.  Weiss,  E.  Yung,  Cardinal 
Perraud,  etc.,  etc.  In  spite  of  the  satisfaction  of  finding 
himself  in  a  centre  so  exactly  suited  to  him,  the  first 
months  were  not  happy  ;  he  had  a  natural  reserve  which 
made  it  difficult  for  him  to  adapt  himself  to  new  surround- 
ings. He  had  to  become  used  once  again  to  a  boarder's 
life,  to  learn  to  know  all  those  young  men,  so  different  in 
their  natures  and  origins  ;  he  dared  not  discover  himself 
to  them  and  confide  to  them,  as  he  did  to  Prevost-Paradol 
and  to  Planat,  the  fermentation  of  his  Ideas  and  the 
philosophical  passion,  or  rather  intoxication,  which  con- 

27 


LIFE   AND   LETTERS   OF   H.    TAINE 

sumed  him.  It  will  be  seen  from  his  letters  that  this 
moral  solitude  became  a  real  suffering.  On  half-holidays 
he  refreshed  himself  in  the  company  of  his  two  dear  friends 
of  the  Lycee  Bourbon.  He  had  no  other  consolation,  for 
he  had  had  to  resign  himself  to  seeing  his  mother's  house 
closed  :  Mme.  Taine,  having  accomplished  her  maternal 
task,  had  returned  to  the  Ardennes,  whither  she  was  called 
by  other  duties.  In  spite  of  her  absence,  the  young  Nor- 
malian  used  to  spend  many  of  his  spare  moments  in  the 
deserted  flat  at  the  Batignolles,  in  order  to  secure,  to- 
gether with  so  many  sweet  memories,  some  hours  of  soli- 
tude, during  which  he  could  concentrate  his  thoughts,  an 
advantage  which  he  missed  so  sorely  at  the  Ecole.  How- 
ever, he  became  accustomed  to  his  new  surroundings  and 
to  the  somewhat  noisy  exuberance  of  his  fellow-students, 
who,  on  the  other  hand,  learnt  to  appreciate  and  to  respect 
the  great  worker  who  won  their  affection  by  his  modesty, 
gentleness  and  courtesy,  and  their  admiration  by  his 
precocious  erudition  and  unquestioned  talent.  Hippolyte 
Taine  soon  took  an  important  part  in  the  discussions  of 
these  eager  youths  ;  he  loved  ideas  as  passionately  as 
others  love  pleasure.  Those  three  years  at  the  Ecole 
Normale,  so  productive  for  his  mind,  became  most  precious 
memories  to  him,  and  were  always  considered  by  him 
as  having  been  the  best  time  in  his  life. 

The  Ecole  then  had  M.  P.  F.  Dubois  as  Manager,  and 
M.  E.  Vacherot  as  Director  of  Studies.  This  is  as  much 
as  to  say  that  Liberalism  reigned  there  ;  nothing  could 
be  more  favourable  to  the  development  of  a  mind  so  original 
and  so  conscientious  as  was  that  of  young  Taine.  The 
mattres  des  conferences  for  the  first  year  students  were,  in 

28 


THE  ECOLE  NORMALE 

1848,  M.  Philippe  Le  Bas  for  Greek  and  Greek  Literature, 
M.  Gibon  for  Latin  and  Latin  Literature,  M.  Jacquinot 
for  French  and  French  Literature,  M.  Wallon  for  History, 
M.  Kastus  for  Philosophy,  and  M.  Adler-Mesnard  for 
German. 

But,  besides  the  work  he  was  expected  to  do,  Hippolyte 
Taine  continued,  as  he  had  done  at  the  Lycee,  his  private 
studies  in  Literature,  History  and  Philosophy.  In  litera- 
ture, he  was  chiefly  working  for  the  Licentia,te-es-lettres 
which  he  was  to  take  in  August ;  he  was  making  numerous 
notes  on  Greek,  Latin  and  French  writers  ;  he  was  writing 
a  special  study  on  Pascal's  Rhetoric,  and  an  excellent 
analysis  of  the  chapters  concerning  the  great  Jansenist 
writer  in  Sainte-Beuve's  Port  Royal.  .  He  was  completing 
the  regular  course  of  Ancient  History  by  a  History  of 
the  Eastern  races  of  Egypt,  India,  Persia,  and  Judsea, 
by  some  analyses  of  Herodotus  and  of  Creutzer's  Sym- 
bolique,  and  by  a  work  on  Hebrew  civilization  and  notes 
on  primitive  languages  founded  on  an  article  by  Ernest 
Renan. 

As  regards  Philosophy,  we  find  commentaries  on 
Spinoza,1  notes  on  the  Object  and  Method  of  Philosophy, 
on  Psychology,  Consciousness,  Thought  in  general,  Reason, 
Exterior  Perception,  Induction,  and  Memory  ;  analyses 

1  These  notes,  written  in  his  copy  of  Spinoza,  are  sometimes 
refutations,  as  note  B :  "  This  is  the  weak  point  of  the  system 
(proposition  28).  There  is  a  double  impossibility  here.  Motion,  in 
Spinoza,  lacks  a  cause.  Aristotle's  first  Motor  does  not  exist."- 
Note  J  :  "  Spinoza's  fundamental  error  is  that  he  destroys  the 
world ;  he  really  engulfs  it  in  God.  His  philosophy  comes  in 
the  end  to  this  proposition,  that  particular  beings  are  distinct  but 
in  regard  to  the  mind,  and  not  in  themselves." 

29 


LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF  H.  TAINE 

on  Hegel's  ^Esthetics,  and  finally  on  the  Theory  of  Intel- 
ligence, dated  from  1849.  It  is  the  earliest  trace  of  the 
great  work  which  for  twenty  years  was  the  constant  object 
of  all  his  thoughts. 

At  the  same  time  he  assiduously  attended  M.  Adler- 
Mesnard's  lectures,  and  was  learning  German  in  order  to 
read  Goethe  and  Hegel  in  the  original.  His  curiosity 
was  attracted  by  every  subject,  and  we  see  by  the  analysis 
of  his  readings  that  he  was  then  studying  Hobbes  and 
Burdarch  with  the  same  eagerness  as  Creutzer,  Pascal, 
or  the  Fathers  of  the  Church.  His  less  studious  comrades 
looked  upon  him  as  upon  a  living  encyclopaedia,  and 
marvelled  at  the  depth  and  extent  of  his  information. 

The  continuation  of  his  letters  to  Prevost-Paradol  will 
throw  more  light  than  any  commentary  upon  the  state 
of  Hippolyte  Taine's  mind  and  his  studies  during  that 
first  year  at  the  Ecole  Normale. 

To  Prevost-Paradol. 

February  22,  1849. 

MY  DEAR  PEE VOST, — I  have  j  ust  had  the  greatest  pleasure 
I  had  had  for  a  long  time  ;  your  letter,  so  affectionate,  so 
full  of  confidences,  has  made  me  happy  and  has  given  me 
such  a  desire  to  talk  with  you  that  I  will  spend  all  this 
evening  in  writing  to  you.  I  have  wished  to  do  so  for  a  long 
while,  but  I  never  have  enough  time,  and  then,  I  must 
tell  you,  I  am  always  looking  forward  to  next  year.  My 
dear  fellow,  do  work  at  Greek  and  Latin,  for  my  sake  if 
not  for  your  own.  I  do  want  you  so  !  I  feel  this  want 
more  strongly  every  day,  because  at  the  Ecole  I  have  no 
friend,  either  of  the  mind  or  of  the  heart ;  all  this  flow 

30 


THE  ECOLE  NORMALE 

of  thoughts  and  feelings  which  surge  in  me,  finding  no 
overflow,  runs  out  in  all  sorts  of  private  writings,  either 
serious,  scientific  and  practical,  or  intimate,  secret,  con- 
fidential. Next  year  I  shall  tell  you  everything.  You 
will  find  me  aged  and  changed  ;  new  horizons  have  opened 
to  me  in  science  and  in  life  ;  I  am  oppressed  by  deep 
sadness  and  great  hopes.  And  yet,  when  I  study  myself, 
I  find  that  neither  my  nature  nor  my  convictions  have 
altered  ;  they  have  developed,  that  is  all.  You  will  find 
again  the  friend  that  you  knew,  but  you  will  find  new 
things  in  him.  Until  now,  you  have  only  seen  what 
reigned  in  me  exclusively,  that  is,  the  love  of  knowledge 
and  a  taste  for  exact  science.  Perhaps  you  will  see  a 
formed  character,  settled  opinions  on  practical  life,  and 
what  is  called  a  determinate  system  of  conduct  and  morality. 
Strange  that  a  few  months  of  solitary  thought  and  of 
experience  of  men  should  cause  the  birth  of  a  complete 
development  in  a  soul  hitherto  unaware  of  it. 

As  to  you,  dear  old  fellow,  I  pity  you  and  I  do  not 
understand  you.  You  think  your  own  state  miserable  ; 
you  feel  that  it  is  wretched  to  doubt,  to  seek,  to  give  up 
your  life  to  appearances  and  hazard,  ever  following  glamour 
and  attraction,  devoting  yourself  to  opinions  which 
charm  you,  though  you  do  not  even  know  whether  they  are 
worthy  of  being  supported.  All  this  makes  you  suffer, 
and  yet  you  relish  your  sufferings.  They  are  no  doubt 
very  superior  to  that  stupid  and  brutal  belief  in  what  is 
called  vulgar  instinct  and  to  those  uncertain  and  half 
fallacious  opinions  which  are  admitted  as  if  they  were 
axioms,  and  on  which  the  crowd  of  fools  rest  and  slumber 
In  proud  satisfaction.  But  you  must  go  further,  for  this, 

31 


LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF  H.  TAINE 

let  me  tell  you,  is  wretchedness.     As  long  as  you  are 
young  and  strong  in  mind,  in  body,  in  beliefs  and  in  pas- 
sions, you  can  remain  in  this  state  ;  your  own  ardour  will 
support  you  and  prevent  you  from  falling  into  the  de- 
plorable languor  of  which  suicide  is  the  end.      But  when 
this  ardour  fails  you,  when  it  is  burnt  out,  do  you  know 
what  you  will  come  to  ?     I  know  it,  for  I  have  experienced 
it  this  year  ;  amongst  the  innumerable  occasions  of  disgust 
and  discouragement  which  have  assailed  me,  I  should  have 
succumbed   if  I   had  not  had  a   belief  resting   on  solid 
demonstration.     Such  a  firm  point  as  this  was  necessary 
to    stay  me    from    falling    into    the    gulf  which   opens 
at    the    feet    of    every    man    nurtured    in    science    and 
art  when,  for  the  first  time,  he  perceives  the  World,  Life, 
and  that  bleak  wilderness  of  thirty  or  forty  years  which 
he  may  still  have  to  go  through  before  the  final  sleep 
comes.     Happiness  is  impossible  ;    calm  is  the  supreme 
object  of  man,  and  it  is  unattainable  to  him  who  has  not 
acquired    immutable   convictions.     I    have   done   so ;     I 
have,  I  say,  and  my  convictions  become  firmer  and  more 
extensive   every   day.     I   believe   that   absolute,    linked, 
and  geometrical  science  is  possible  ;    I  am  working  at  it 
and   have   already  advanced   two  or  three  well   marked 
steps.     Now,  make  up  your  mind  seriously,  and  give  me 
your  hand  next  year.     If  geometry  is  indisputable,  I  shall 
make  you  believe  ;  not  with  that  vain,  superficial  belief 
which  flits  inconsistently  above  its  object,  but  with  that 
solid,   perfect  persuasion  which  is  an  absolute  rest  for 
the  soul,  which  excludes  all  doubt  and  enchains  the  mind 
with  links  of  iron. 

What  is  it  that  persuades  you  that  Truth  is  inaccessible  ? 

32 


THE  ECOLE  NORMALE 

Is  it  the  fact  that  you  have  not  found  it  ?  That  is  no 
proof.  How  can  you  renounce  belief  on  so  slight  a  found- 
ation ?  It  is  method  that  you  lack  ;  I  can  feel  it  for 
myself.  Things  which  were  incomprehensible  at  first 
became  clear  when  I  applied  my  mind  in  the  right  way 
to  understanding  them.  I  am  not  speaking  here  of  the 
common  method  with  which  one's  ears  are  satiated  during 
one's  very  first  month  of  Philosophy.  There  is  a  much 
higher,  clearer,  surer  method,  that  of  Spinoza.  So  do 
not  give  up  the  hope  of  Truth,  and  wait,  I  beg  of  you,  until 
we  have  worked  together.  You  will  see  how  really  slight 
are  the  contradictions  between  philosophers  which  induce 
you  to  doubt,  and  how  all  those  great  minds  are  really 
agreed.  Some  one  said  that  philosophy,  like  mathe- 
matics, had  been  renovated  two  or  three  times,  but  had 
never  changed — and  that  is  very  true.  There  is  a  superior 
point  of  view  from  which  we  embrace  the  Whole  of  things 
and  from  which  we  easily  unravel  all  difficulties.  Two 
or  three  great  men  have  touched  it,  and  we  should  try 
and  follow  them.  Take  courage  therefore,  and  be  but  a 
provisional  sceptic. 

I  am  jealous  of  your  young  friend.  You  have  in  him  a 
confidant,  almost  a  son  ;  have  you  forgotten  me  for  him  ? 
If  you  love  him  as  much  as  you  say,  all  the  room  in  your 
soul  must  be  filled  up  ;  he  must  suffice  to  you  and  you 
cannot  miss  me.  Try  to  have  a  large  heart  and  to  love  him 
as  a  pupil,  whilst  loving  me  as  your  friend — your  old  friend. 
For  I  must  remind  you  of  all  my  claims.  Have  we  not  to- 
gether educated  our  two  minds  ?  Have  we  not  together 
watched  the  course  of  our  two  intellects  ?  Have  we  not  the 
same  grounding  of  ideas  and  sentiments  ?  I  feel  towards 

33  D 


LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF  H.  TAINE 

you  something  more  yet ;  that  something  is  sympathy,  and, 
after  you,  there  is  but  one  person  in  my  life  for  whom  I  have 
felt  it.  Why  ?  It  is  because  Friendship  is  like  wedlock,  and, 
as  Plato  said,  it  is  but  rarely  that  we  meet  the  half  from 
which  we  have  been  separated.  And,  shall  I  tell  you  ?  I 
count  upon  your  future.  I  hope  arid  believe  that  you  will 
become  somebody ;  you  will  have  talent,  and,  if  I  wish 
that  you  should  have  a  belief,  it  is  in  order  to  place  your 
eloquence  at  the  service  of  a  Cause,  and  through  the 
union  of  those  two  forces,  to  see  you  reach  the  very  first 
rank.  Your  success  makes  me  happy  with  a  sort  of  pater- 
nal pride.  Let  me  explain  this  word  :  having  myself 
passed  through  the  same  intellectual  changes,  and  being 
persuaded  that  there  is  progress  and  development  in  the 
movements  of  the  mind,  I  believe  I  have  already  been 
wafted  further  forwards  than  you.  Seated  on  the  shore,  I 
wait  for  you  ;  I  love  to  see  you  coming  nearer ;  I  expect 
to  see  you  take  the  same  route.  It  seems  to  me  that  I 
am  old  and  experienced  and  that  I  interest  myself,  as  an 
old  man  would,  in  those  who  are  starting  on  the  same 
voyage  as  I.  Have  you  had  a  similar  feeling  ? 

You  say  you  are  ambitious.  What  do  you  yearn  for  ? 
Glory  ?  Power  ?  What  is  your  plan  of  life  ?  Do  you 
want  to  go  into  politics  ?  Do  write  and  tell  me  what  your 
desire  is.  Formerly,  it  seems  to  me,  you  merely  wished 
for  a  professorship  in  the  country  ;  you  wished  to  give 
four  hours  of  your  time  to  the  State  every  day,  in  exchange 
for  a  small  salary,  and  to  cultivate  Horace's  happy  medio- 
crity, enjoying  country  rambles  and  the  view  of  the  woods 
and  the  skies,  living  alone,  skimming  various  subjects, 
gathering  glimpses  of  Beauty  and  Truth  on  your  way, 

34 


THE  ECOLE  NORMALE 

and  trying  to  soothe  the  unquiet  activity  of  your  soul  by 
this  life,  at  the  same  time  restful  and  active. 

Do  you  now  wish  the  post  of  a  j  ournalist,  for  a  political 
role,  a  life  of  disputes  with  Catholicism  and  pamphlets 
against  the  bourgeoisie  ?  Give  me  your  confidence.  I 
am  awaiting  your  next  letter.  For  my  part,  a  life  of  dis- 
cussion bores  me  ;  it  teaches  one  nothing,  and  nothing 
is  gained  by  it  but  enmity  and  insults.  It  has  ceased 
at  the  Ecole  as  far  as  I  am  concerned.  I  have  sworn 
not  to  discuss  either  politics  or  religion  again,  and  I  spend 
my  spare  time  either  in  joking  or  in  music. 

Are  you  a  psychologist  ?  Have  you  acquired  the  talent 
of  observing  yourself  and  seeing  yourself  feel  and  act  ? 

If,  later  on,  you  cannot  acquire  a  belief,  become  an 
historian  if  not  a  philosopher.  For  my  part,  it  is  almost 
certain  that  I  shall  go  in  for  Philosophy. 

Write  me  a  long  letter  and  tell  me  about  your  friend 
and  your  philosophical  readings.  Have  you  been  reading 
seriously  at  all  ? 

Adieu. 

To  the  same. 

March  2,  1849. 

MY  FRIEND, — I  do  not  write  to  you  from  a  sense  of  duty, 
I  only  just  converse  with  you ;  I  have  found  a  spare 
moment  every  Thursday  evening,  which  shall  now  be  yours, 
if  you  will. 

You  talk  to  me  of  Plato  and  of  Greece  ;  that  is  indeed 
appealing  to  my  sympathies,  and  I  am  happy  to  see  you 
really  Greek  and  classical :  we  both  are  that.  Nothing 

35 


LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF  H.  TAINE 

equals  my  pleasure  and  the  serenity  of  my  soul  when  I 
wander  by  myself  in  the  morning  in  the  great  silent  halls 
of  the  Museum,  amongst  all  those  forms,  so  living  and  so 
divine.  First,  I  must  talk  to  you  about  Aristophanes  ; 
rejoice,  we  shall  read  him  together  next  year.  You  can 
have  no  idea  of  so  much  freedom,  so  much  democratic 
immodesty,  so  much  grandeur,  elegance,  beauty,  and 
vivacity.  Your  Plato  charms  you  because,  amidst  the 
most  elevated  thoughts,  you  see  Love  and  Nudity.  But  you 
see  but  one  corner  of  the  picture.  Aristophanes  will  raise 
the  whole  of  the  veil ;  you  will  see  this  mixture  of  poetry 
and  impurity,  of  beauty  and  licentiousness.  No  real  ob- 
scenity, though,  nothing  ignoble  as  in  Shakespeare  ;  the 
ignoble,  the  purely  ugly,  is  modern.  Grace  and  good 
taste,  in  Greece,  accompany  everything. 

So  you  have  become  ambitious  all  of  a  sudden  ?  My 
dear  fellow,  you  will  be  unhappy.  Everything  that 
preachers  and  moralists  have  said  on  the  imprudence  of 
committing  one's  happiness  to  outward  things  is  strictly 
true.  You  will  be  unhappy,  and — what  is  worse — agitated, 
uncertain,  and  disturbed  by  conflicting  desires,  like  a  good 
ship  deprived  of  ballast.  Your  talent  will  make  you  un- 
happy. Think  over  it.  I  have  made  up  my  mind,  as  you 
know  ;  pleasure  for  me  is  not  happiness  ;  I  have  renounced 
it,  I  do  not  care  about  it  any  more  ;  I  use  it  to  keep  slumber- 
ing nature  awake  ;  it  is  a  spur  to  urge  me  on  to  my  object ; 
nothing  more.  My  object  is  the  Good,  or  the  Being,  as 
we  used  to  say  in  Metaphysics.  That  I  may  think  much, 
and  discover  many  new  things,  gaze  upon  and  produce 
beautiful  things,  that  I  may  have  food  for  love,  that  is 
to  say  that  I  may  have  the  friendship  of  persons  estimable 

36 


THE   ECOLE  NORMALE 

in  heart  and  mind,  and  in  whom  I  may  exist  so  as  to  dupli- 
cate my  being ;  that  I  may  render  some  service  to  other 
men  through  the  profession  I  shall  take  up — such  are  my 
aspirations.  If  I  have  enough  strength  to  persevere  in 
this  work,  I  shall  obtain  Calm,  which  is  the  mental  health 
of  man. 

Calm  !  Do  you  understand  what  it  is  ?  It  is  the 
supreme  good,  for  it  is  Action,  regulated  and  made  easy. 
Why,  I  must  act  so  !  My  only  desire  is  to  improve  myself, 
in  order  to  be  worth  a  little  more  every  day,  and  able  to 
look  within  myself  without  displeasure.  Do  you  not  know 
that  such  a  retreat  is  necessary  to  man  ?  that  real  life 
is  so  full  of  causes  of  disgust  and  suffering  that  we  are  ever 
seeking  for  a  refuge  from  it  ?  that  the  greater  number  of 
men  are  so  bad,  so  despicable,  and  so  stupid,  that  it  is 
necessary  to  converse  with  one's  self.  Well,  being  a  true 
Sybarite,  I  am  going  to  sweep  and  garnish  this  inmost 
dwelling,  and  to  set  up  in  it  some  true  ideas,  some  good 
intentions,  and  a  few  sincere  affections.  That  is  all ; 
merely  a  home  concern.  I  have  no  desire  to  career  through 
the  world  with  much  noise  and  fine  apparel,  gaining 
glory  and  respect,  and  at  the  same  time  leaving  my  house 
unclean  and  unadorned  ;  I  do  not  like  to  return  from 
shining  halls  to  a  dirty  hut,  and,  before  I  try  to  appear 
handsome  and  well  dressed,  I  shall  endeavour  to  be  so. 
Only  one  thing  vexes  me  in  all  this :  that  is  the  insignificance 
of  my  own  mind,  and  the  immensity  of  genius  and  science 
which  is  necessary  to  build  up  the  complete  and  geometrical 
knowledge  of  which  I  have  spoken.  It  often  happens  to 
me  to  fall  into  a  state  of  languid  depression,  during  which 
I  spend  hours  on  my  bed  or  in  an  armchair,  in  that  sort 

37 


LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF  H.  TAINE 

of  mental  prostration  so  dreary  and  oppressive,  which  you 
know. 

Another  cause  of  misery  is  that  I  love,  or  rather  that  I 
would  love  :  I  need  it ;  I  feel  that  life  for  Man  is  not  com- 
plete without  Love,  and  you  know  in  what  a  broad  sense 
I  take  this  word  Love — it  is  Affection  of  every  kind.  If  I 
were  romantic,  if  I  were  not  accustomed  to  observe  myself 
and  to  examine  others,  I  should  be  like  the  ideals  of  whom 
novels  are  full,  and  I  should  fall  into  some  fine  amorous 
passion.  I  read,  four  days  ago,  M.  de  Lamartine's  Raphael, 
which  consists  in  the  description  of  a  first  love,  and  I  was 
delighted  ;  I  felt :  "  that  is  indeed  myself."  But  you  need 
not  fear,  I  will  answer  for  myself  without  any  difficulty. 
And  why  ?  Because  I  know  what  I  want,  I  have  none  of  those 
hazy  ideas,  that  lack  of  reflection,  which  make  of  a  beautiful 
and  ordinary  person  a  supreme  example  of  perfection.  It  is 
because  I  aspire  to  something  infinitely  more  exalted,  that 
which  is  perfection  to  a  philosopher.  I  know  that  it  does 
not  exist  in  the  human  race,  and  that  if  anything  approaches 
it  it  is  not  Woman  but  Man,  so  that  my  ideal  would  be 
rather  Friendship  than  Love.  More  :  I  have  given  it  up  ; 
this  calm  sadness,  this  calculated  discouragement  which 
has  taken  hold  of  me  as  regards  Thought  is  now  seizing  me 
in  respect  of  Love.  I  do  not  hope.  No  reflecting  man 
can  hope.  And  then,  this  is  what  befalls  me  :  in  the  face 
of  this  impossibility  a  great  and  melancholy  feeling  grips 
me  ;  the  sight  of  mutilated  human  nature,  the  necessity 
of  only  loving  others  and  oneself  by  halves,  this  radical 
vice  of  the  nature  of  Man,  who,  wounded  in  his  innermost 
being,  drags  his  incurable  hurt  along  the  road  which 
Time  opens  to  him — all  this  moves  me  like  the  sight  of 

38 


THE   ECOLE   NORMALE 

ships  in  danger  on  the  sea.  Man  suffers  at  the  sight,  and 
the  peril  of  the  sailors  touches  him  ;  but  the  sea  is  so  grand, 
there  is  so  much  beauty  and  life  in  the  movement  of  the 
waves,  in  the  clouds,  in  the  eiforts  of  the  men  in  their 
danger,  that  a  sort  of  strange  joy  mingles  with  the  first 
bitterness.  Such  are  my  feelings.  That  which  reveals  to 
me  the  fundamental  imperfection  of  Man,  and  the  un- 
happiness  which  is  his  real  nature,  is  the  knowledge  of 
perfection  and  the  sight  of  the  logical  and  necessary  con- 
catenation of  things.  The  view  of  that  necessity  and  of 
that  grand  thing  which  we  call  Perfection  is  sweet ;  the 
sight  of  that  which  is  the  real  life  and  the  real  nature  of 
Man  consoles  me.  The  knowledge  of  what  is  true  and  what 
exists  suffices  to  fill  the  soul  and  to  smother  the  anguish 
which  would  follow  acquaintance  with  misfortune.  That  is 
why  I  so  love  the  things  of  Nature.  A  sky,  even  dull  and 
foggy,  bare  leafless  trees,  the  monotonous  breath  of  the  north 
wind,  the  aspect  of  a  barren  plain,  the  waving  in  the  cold 
air  of  shining  blades  of  grass  ...  all  this  is  beautiful  and 
enchanting  to  me,  and  the  country  is  perhaps  the  only 
thing  which  gives  me  a  kind  of  complete  satisfaction. 

Not  that  I  limit  myself  to  these  desires,  I  should  not 
care  to  vegetate  in  some  hole  in  the  provinces  :  I  shall  try 
and  make  my  way.  But  it  is  not  because  of  a  fever  of 
ambition,  only  because  I  think  each  man's  position  should 
correspond  to  his  value,  and  one  ought  not  to  be  under- 
rated. Now  you  know  me  pretty  well  as  I  am  at  present. 
Adieu. 


89 


LIFE   AND   LETTERS   OF  H.   TAINE 

To  the  same. 

March  20,  1849. 

MY  DEAR  PREVOST, — It  is  indeed  for  me  to  apologize ! 
I  ought  to  have  answered  you  a  week  ago,  and  I  have  not 
been  able  to  do  so,  having,  like  you,  an  accumulation  of 
work  of  all  kinds  that  I  cannot  get  through.  First,  there 
are  all  the  regular,  official  papers  on  Greek,  Philosophy, 
History,  Latin,  and  French  ;  then  preparation  for  my 
Licentiate,  and  the  reading  up  of  thirty  or  forty  difficult 
authors  that  we  shall  have  to  discourse  about ;  lastly,  all 
my  private  studies  in  Literature,  History,  and  Philosophy. 
All  this  is  going  on  at  once,  and  I  always  have  a  quantity 
of  things  in  hand  ;  I  have  drawn  up  a  big  plan  of  study, 
and  I  intend  to  work  out  a  great  part  of  it  during  these 
three  years  at  the  Ecole  ;  I  shall  complete  it  later  on.  I 
mean  to  be  a  philosopher  ;  and,  now  that  you  understand 
the  full  sense  of  the  word,  you  can  see  what  a  series  of 
reflections  and  what  a  mass  of  knowledge  are  necessary  to 
me.  If  I  only  wished  to  pass  an  examination  or  to  accept  a 
Professorship,  I  should  not  need  to  take  much  trouble  ; 
it  would  be  sufficient  to  have  a  certain  amount  of  reading 
and  a  strict  adherence  to  doctrine,  together  with  a  complete 
ignorance  of  Modern  Science  and  Philosophy.  But,  as  I 
would  rather  drown  myself  than  be  reduced  to  mere  pot- 
boiling — as  I  am  studying  for  the  sake  of  knowledge,  and 
not  merely  in  order  to  earn  my  living — I  want  my  in- 
struction to  be  complete.  I  am  thus  thrown  into  all  kinds 
of  research,  and  shall  be  obliged,  when  I  leave  the  Ecole, 
to  study  Social  Science,  Political  Economy,  and  Physical 
Science.  Life  is  long — this  is  the  use  I  shall  make  of  it ; 

40 


THE  ECOLE  NORMALE 

but  my  private  cogitations  take  up  most  of  my  time  ;  one 
must  seek  in  order  to  understand — in  order  to  believe  in 
Philosophy  one  must  go  through  it  all  for  oneself,  and 
repeat  the  same  discoveries  that  others  have  made  before 
you.  You  know  this  by  experience,  and  if  you  are  now 
adrift  on  your  unfortunate  scepticism,  it  is  because  you 
have  looked  upon  philosophers  as  advocates  or  comedians  ; 
as  they  all  have  great  genius,  they  reason  forcibly  and 
convincingly,  and  present  to  you  beautiful  and  poetical 
opinions.  Hence  you  have  admitted  the  most  contrary 
systems,  just  as,  when  listening  disinterestedly  to  rival 
speakers  of  great  eloquence,  we  are  swayed  by  each  of 
them  in  turn  and  end  by  believing  in  neither.  But, 
believe  me,  I  would  rather  have  your  coldness,  your 
disgust,  your  scepticism,  and  your  ambition  than  your 
former  blind,  unreasoning,  passionate,  and  inflexible  con- 
victions ;  the  result  will  be  that  you  will  not  take  life 
seriously,  and  that  you  will  make  it  sweeter  and  more 
agreeable,  until  the  day  will  come  when  you  will  tire  of 
this  floating  and  uncertain  state,  and  will  decide  to  seek 
for  firm  ground,  and  rest  on  it  at  last. 

And  let  me  tell  you,  you  are  nearer  to  me  now  than 
before :  the  property  of  Thought  is  to  pacify  the  mind,  and, 
by  elevating  it,  to  bestow  on  it  Equanimity.  That  is  what 
has  befallen  me  ;  like  you,  I  have  acquired  great  contempt 
for  mankind,  whilst  preserving  a  great  admiration  for 
human  nature.  I  consider  men  ridiculous,  impotent,  and 
passionate  like  children,  stupid  and  vain,  and  especially 
silly  in  being  full  of  prejudices.  Whilst  preserving  the 
outward  forms  of  politeness,  I  laugh  to  myself  to  see  how 
ugly  and  idiotic  they  are.  Is  not  that  what  you  felt  last 

41 


LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF  H.  TAINE 

year  ?  You  used  to  tell  me  so,  and  I  did  not  listen  to  you, 
for  I  was  lost  in  the  contemplation  of  Man  in  himself.  I 
am  now  where  you  are,  but  I  have  kept  my  former  opinions 
on  human  nature  and  my  deep  love  for  a  thing  so  beautiful, 
so  vast.  These  two  feelings  are  by  no  means  irreconcilable, 
for  it  is  one  more  reason  for  looking  down  on  men  to  see 
that,  with  such  a  perfect  essence,  they  only  succeed  in  being 
fools,  frenzied  lunatics,  or  knaves. 

It  follows  that  my  love,  drawing  back  from  particular 
objects,  tends  towards  general  or  ideal  things,  such  as 
works  of  Art,  Humanity  as  a  whole,  and  especially  Nature. 
I  felt  this  more  strongly  yesterday  than  I  have  ever  done. 
I  was  at  the  Jardin  des  Plantes,  in  a  deserted  corner,  and 
I  was  gazing  at  a  slope  covered  with  young  wild  grasses 
in  bloom  ;    the  sun  shone  through  them,  and  I  could  see 
the  inner  life  circulating  in  the  slight  tissues  and  raising 
the  strong  stalks  ;    the  wind  blew  and  swayed  all  that 
harvest  of  thick  growing  blades,  of  a  marvellous  beauty 
and  transparency.     I  felt  my  heart  beating,  and  my  whole 
soul   throbbing  with  love   for  that  great,   strange,   and 
beautiful  Being  which  we  call  Nature.     I  loved  her,  I  love 
her  now,  I  felt  and  saw  her  everywhere  :  in  the  luminous 
sky,  in  the  pure  air,  in  that  forest  of  living  animated  plants, 
and  especially  in  the  quick  and  uncertain  breath  of  the 
Spring  breezes.     Oh  !    why  was  I  not  away  from  dusty 
Paris,  away  in  the  free  and  lonely  country  !    Why  do  I 
love  Nature  so  ?     Why,  when  I  see  her,  am  I  moved  like 
a  lover  in  the  presence  of  his  mistress  ?     Why  am  I  filled 
with  a  calm  and  perfect  joy  ?     Are  Nature  and  Man  but 
one  thing  ?     Do  they,  at  certain  moments,  return  to  the 
primitive  and  absolute  unity  from  which,  alas  for  them  ! 

42 


THE   ECOLE   NORMALE 

they  have  departed  ?  For  my  part,  I  think  Nature  more 
beautiful  than  Woman  ;  the  rosy  tints  of  the  morning 
sky  seem  to  me  more  delicate  than  the  lovely  colouring 
of  the  fairest  cheek  ;  the  ripple  of  water  running  over  rocks 
and  weeds  are  to  me  as  expressive  as  the  changes  of  the 
most  mobile  countenance.  What  more  shall  I  tell  you  ? 
When  I  perceive  a  whole  landscape,  with  its  rivers,  its 
woods,  its  hills  and  dales,  its  sounds  and  colourings,  I  feel  the 
presence  of  a  Being  absolutely  One  and  real ;  all  that  is 
One,  and  this  infinite  and  accessible  grandeur  is  the  Supreme 
Beauty.  There  are  some  barbarians  who  see  in  all  this 
but  a  spectacle,  a  phantasmagoria  which  God  displays  to 
amuse  Mankind,  a  composite  of  matter  and  movement 
without  forces  of  its  own,  without  veritable  reality — and 
they  call  themselves  artists  ! ! 

Seriously,  my  dear  fellow,  can  you  live  a  political  life, 
or  what  is  called  real  life,  when  you  have  such  thoughts 
before  you  ?  Can  you  love  with  your  whole  soul  anything 
but  those  perfect  things  which  Science  and  inward  Thought 
reveal  to  us  ?  And  do  you  not  feel  that,  when  we  give  this 
love  to  a  finite  and  real  creature,  we  only  give  it  in  fancy, 
imagining  that  that  being  is  perfect,  and  clothing  it  with 
all  the  excellence  which  we  see  in  the  Divine  model  ?  I 
do  not  know  if  the  same  process  takes  place  in  you  as  in 
me,  but  I  confess  that  the  infinite  love  which,  like  all  men, 
I  carry  in  the  bottom  of  my  heart,  always  finds  itself  ar- 
rested in  its  flight  when  directed  towards  finite  realizations 
of  the  perfect  Essence  ;  I  know  not  what  unfortunate 
perspicacity  shows  me  that  they  lack  this  or  that,  and  that 
they  therefore  cannot  become  in  every  point  an  object  of 


LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF  H.  TAINE 

love  ;  I  say  the  same  of  myself,  and  I  feel  that  I,  too,  do 
not  deserve  to  be  completely  loved. 

I  am  confessing  to  you  a  crowd  of  thoughts  and  feelings 
that  I  should  not  dare  tell  any  one  else  lest  I  be  considered 
crazy.  But  with  you  I  dare  everything  ;  tell  me  whether 
I  am  keeping  within  the  bounds,  not  of  common  sense  (I 
know  I  am  not,  and  it  does  not  afflict  me),  but  within 
those  of  good  sense  (which  is  more  serious).  You  are  more 
capable  than  another  of  judging,  since  you  do  not  believe 
in  Philosophy  and  can  look  upon  it  without  being  dazzled. 
Besides,  all  this  is  explained  in  the  chain  of  my  doctrines, 
and  one  day,  if  you  like,  I  will  explain  to  you  the  meaning 
of  the  sort  of  practical  Pantheism  which  I  have  set  down 
in  this  letter. 

Good-bye,  take  care  of  yourself,  and  write  to  me  as  long 
a  letter  as  I  have  written  to  you. 

To  the  same. 

March  25,  1849. 

Have  you  read  Fourier  ?  One  might  think  that  you 
were  sending  me  an  exposition  of  his  system  ;  I  know  it,  I 
often  meet  a  phalansterian. 

Mind,  I  am  not  going  to  send  you  a  refutation  of  Fourier- 
ism  ;  that  would  require  metaphysics,  which  you  do  not 
want,  nor  I,  for  I  have  a  bad  headache  at  this  moment, 
and  am  incapable  of  serious  thought — I  am  even  going  to 
take  a  few  days'  rest.  I  simply  want  to  write  to  you 
something  on  the  history  of  Philosophy,  and  on  the  precise 
point  at  which  your  mind  has  arrived  ;  Thought  has  its 
laws,  like  Light  and  Heat,  and  its  evolution  can  be  traced 
beforehand. 

44 


THE  ECOLE   NORMALE 

There  are  three  phases  in  Philosophy.  You  are  in  the 
first,  and  I  wish  with  all  my  heart  that  you  may  pass  on 
to  the  second  to  reach  the  third  ;  let  me  explain  what  I 
mean  by  that. 

The  first  philosophy  is  sensualistic,  materialistic  Philo- 
sophy, that  of  Lucretius,  Thales,  Fourier,  Helvetius.  Man 
looks  upon  this  world  without  having  yet  turned  his  re- 
flections inwards,  without  a  clear  sense  of  what  is  material 
and  what  is  spiritual ;  he  sees  things  through  the  common 
notions  which  come  from  Imagination.  For  him,  Life,  or 
the  Being,  is  a  subtle,  somewhat  fluid  air,  a  something  which 
is  diffused  all  over  the  world,  and  which,  combined  in 
various  ways,  produces  various  organizations.  The  Good 
is  enjoyment,  perceptible  emotion,  or  pleasure.  This 
philosophy  does  not  see  much  beyond  the  outward  appear- 
ance of  objects,  and  has  at  bottom  no  accurate  and  no 
clear  notions  ;  it  is  the  immediate  successor  of  the  scepticism 
which  springs  from  the  disappearance  of  religious  belief. 
That  is  as  far  as  you  have  got,  where  I  was  eighteen  months 
ago,  and  where  the  world  was  in  the  time  of  Lucretius  and 
at  the  beginning  of  the  nineteenth  century. 

Now  see  how  the  mind  emerges  from  that  condition, 
and  how  you  in  your  turn  will  emerge  from  it  by  means 
of  Psychology  and  something  analogous  to  Cartesianism  ; 
it  is  called  the  Subjective  Philosophy  of  Self ;  Christianity 
is  somewhere  near  it.  Man,  pondering  within  himself,  and 
distinguishing  Self  from  all  the  material  objects  which 
surround  it,  becomes  conscious  of  his  spirituality  and 
enters  an  entirely  new  world.  He  then  denies  that  he 
is  Matter,  he  establishes  an  impassable  wall  between  Spirit 
and  Matter,  to  such  an  extent  that  he  denies  Will  any 

45 


LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF  H.  TAINE 

power  of  moving  the  body  ;  in  morals  he  lays  down  what 
is  called  the  law  of  Duty,  and  likewise  absolutely  separates 
duty  from  pleasure.  He  concludes  in  favour  of  a  God, 
like  Descartes,  from  the  ideas  he  discovers  in  himself ; 
Religion  falls,  like  Christianity,  into  pure  Anthropomor- 
phism, whilst  in  the  first  phase  it  was  pure  Naturalism. 
During  this  second  stage  ideas  find  expression  of  Merit 
and  Demerit,  of  a  God  who  is  a  Judge,  of  the  Immortality 
of  the  Soul,  etc.  .  .  . 

The  last  phase  is  that  in  which  Man  recognizes  the 
radical  unity  of  himself  and  all  things,  the  fundamental 
oneness  of  Pleasure  and  Duty,  of  Liberty  and  Necessity. 
This  is  called  the  Philosophy  of  the  Substance  or  of  the 
Absolute.  Spinoza  is  an  admirable  interpreter  of  it.  This 
philosophy,  starting  from  the  very  principle  of  things, 
explains  everything,  conciliates  all  contradictions,  and 
gives  supreme  rest  to  the  mind.  It  consists  in  true  Meta- 
physics ;  the  first  is  bad  Physics,  and  the  second  Psychology. 

This  is  a  rough  idea,  a  rapid  sketch  of  the  evolution  of 
human  thought ;  every  man's  aim  is  to  attain  for  himself 
the  object  reached  by  Humanity  as  a  whole.  Therefore, 
my  friend,  if  you  believe  me,  practise  psychology,  study 
Descartes,  distinguish  the  spiritual  from  the  material,  study 
Kant  and  the  doctrine  of  compulsory  duty  ;  after  a  little 
time  you  will  enter  into  that  exalted  and  calm  philosophy 
which  is  the  last,  the  supreme  philosophy,  and  to  which  I 
believe  I  am  coming  nearer  every  day. 

I  implore  you,  do  not  remain  where  you  are  now  ! 
Descartes,  Malebranche,  the  Christians  even,  are  superior 
to  you  at  present ;  that  is  not  creditable  to  you ;  hasten 
to  equal  them,  so  as  to  reach  at  last  that  conception  of 

46 


THE  ECOLE  NORMALE 

Substance  in  which  are  reconciled  the  logical  and  the 
psychological,  the  spiritualistic  and  the  materialistic  points 
of  view.  It  will  give  you  the  true  notion  of  the  Infinite 
and  the  Absolute  ;  it  will  reconcile  you  to  the  notion  of 
God,  for  God  is  not  the  idol  of  the  Christians,  nor  your 
"  electricity,"  He  is  above  all  that  you  imagine,  all  that 
you  conceive,  and  knowledge  of  Him  is  the  real  salvation 
of  the  mind. 

I  have  read  Raphael,1  like  you,  and  like  you  was  much 
moved  by  it,  for  different  reasons.  Leaving  aside  its  style 
and  the  absurdities  of  execution,  the  idea  and  spirit  of  the 
book,  to  my  mind,  are  excellent.  He  has  well  understood 
Love.  Love  is  a  faculty  and  not  a  need  ;  true  Love  is 
sufficient  unto  itself,  and  happy,  like  Thought,  in  its  own 
activity  ;  it  is  devoted,  it  is  not  monopolizing  nor  destruc- 
tive, like  sensual  or  covetous  love  ;  it  does  not  aspire  to 
make  of  the  loved  object  a  mere  appendage  of  itself ;  it 
does  not  consider  itself  in  what  it  feels  and  does  for  the 
loved  object — but  it  lives  in  the  object  and  thus  duplicates 
its  own  existence.  It  is  the  perfect  preservation  of  two 
personalities  in  the  absolute  union  of  two  beings  ;  it  is  not 
selfish  or  jealous  ;  it  suffers  that  the  loved  object  should 
love  others  ;  it  has  but  one  object,  which  is  to  become  more 
united  and  to  make  the  loved  one  more  perfect ;  it  is  like 
a  sculptor,  who,  his  eyes  fixed  on  the  ideal  model,  corrects 
and  embellishes  day  by  day  his  divine  statues.  It  is  not 
languid,  dreamy,  melancholy,  tearful ;  it  is  strong,  sensible, 
reasonable,  courageous  ;  it  is  not  a  passion,  but  an  activity  ; 
Man  is  not  possessed,  mastered,  diminished  by  it,  but 

1  Lainartine'a  novel,  which  had  recently  been  published. 
47 


LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF  H.  TAINE 

strengthened,  exalted,  and  made  divine,  as  he  is  by  the 
assiduous  exercise  of  thought  and  of  action. 

Happy  are  those  who  can  find  in  their  lives  a  few  features 
of  such  a  love  !  But  our  misfortune  is  that  the  imperfection 
of  all  beings  forces  us  to  love  them  but  partially,  and  that 
this  hidden  fire  which  might  set  light  to  such  a  con- 
flagration, being  scattered,  burns  itself  out,  or  at  least 
burns  very  low  !  Man  is  not  born  to  live  alone ;  the  need 
of  Friendship  torments  him  without  ceasing.  I  feel  it  here 
more  than  ever,  alone ;  with  no  one  to  guide  or  encourage 
me  I  sometimes  feel  very  miserable  ;  your  letters  make 
me  very  happy,  and  console  me  much — do  write  often,  I 
need  it ;  but,  especially,  try  and  help  me  by  keeping  me 
straight,  telling  me,  when  it  seems  to  you  that  I  go  wrong, 
what  I  should  correct  in  my  thoughts,  in  my  way  of  looking 
upon  life,  in  everything,  in  fact.  I  write  to  you  with  so 
much  freedom,  and  we  have  been  friends  so  long  that  you 
must  know  me  as  yourself.  Think  that  I  do  the  same  for 
you ;  what  is  this  philosophical  propaganda  that  I  am 
writing  you  if  not  a  desire  to  correct  what  I  believe  to  be 
fallacious  in  your  opinions  ?  Why,  old  friend,  there  is 
nobody  to  tell  us  the  truth ;  hardly  any  one  knows  us — 
those  who  have  seen  us  know  us  incompletely  or  judge 
of  us  from  prejudice  or  from  friendship  ;  we  ourselves  can 
say  nothing  very  certain  about  ourselves  ;  with  the  best 
faith  in  the  world,  we  see  nothing,  proximity  blinds  us. 
It  is  the  least  we  can  do  that  friends  should  be  confessors 
to  one  another.  What,  without  that,  would  be  the  use 
of  friendship  ?  We  flatter  our  acquaintances,  we  do  not 
speak  to  our  enemies,  we  smile  on  men  of  the  world,  we 
speak  aloud  a  purely  conventional  language  ;  let  us  whisper 

48 


THE   ECOLE    NORMALE 

in  the  ear  of  our  friends  the  language  of  good  faith  ;  they 
are  the  only  ones  whom  we  know  well  enough  to  see  that 
they  have  enough  stomach  to  digest  the  rough  and  dis- 
agreeable dish  of  virile  food  which  is  called  Truth.  Good- 
bye :  write  to  me  on  all  four  sides  of  the  paper. 

March  30,  1849. 

I  have  been  reading  your  letter  over  again,  and  I  find 
a  sentence  which  alarms  me.  You  speak  of  publishing  a 
paper x  on  your  philosophical  convictions. 

Do  you  really  contemplate  this  folly  ?  You  yourself 
admit  me  that  your  opinions  seem  to  you  but  probable. 
And  you,  at  nineteen,  are  going  to  bind  down  your  whole 
life  by  a  public  writing,  when  you  do  not  know  whether, 
in  a  year  or  two,  the  evolution  of  your  mind  will  not  have 
thrown  you  into  another  school  of  thought  ?  It  is  in- 
excusable temerity.  You  are  playing  with  your  future. 
Pray  reflect,  and  think  what  a  thing  it  is  to  appear  in  print. 

I  now  come  to  my  answer.  I  should  have  many  things 
to  say  to  you,  but  I  will  only  touch  upon  two  points : 

1.  In  the  first  place,  I  will  show  you  wherein  our  Philoso- 
phies differ.  They  are  more  divided  than  you  think  ;  in 
fact,  they  are  absolutely  so.  Your  unity2  resembles  the 

1  Extract  from  Prevost-Paradol's  letters  (edited  by  Octave 
Greard) :  "...  I  am  going  to  read  Spinoza,  who  seems  to  be  your 
master.  ...  If  I  find  nothing  there  to  shake  my  opinion, 
I  will  hold  to  the  doctrines  contained  in  my  last  letter,  and  devote 
my  life  to  them.  .  .  ;  I  am  now  correcting,  completing  and  publish- 
ing the  few  pages  I  told  you  of  ;  being  resolved  to  place  my  existence 
at  the  service  of  a  practical  idea  instead  of  consuming  it  entirely 
in  a  long  and  rough  voyage  towards  a  distant  truth." 

3  Greard,  p.  146 :  "  The  radical  unity  of  Man  and  of  all  things, 
the  fundamental  identity  of  Pleasure  and  Duty,  of  Liberty  and 

49  E 


LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF  H.  TAINE 

unity  of  envelopment  and  of  indistinction  in  which  each 
world  lies  when  all  the  germs  of  which  it  is  composed  are 
confounded  ;  mine  resembles  that  harmonious  unity  which 
is  that  of  the  developed  living  world. 

You  attempt  to  conciliate,  and  you  really  destroy ; 
you  sacrifice  moral  law  to  the  law  of  pleasure  by  stating 
that  the  duty  of  man  is  to  satisfy  the  tendencies  of  his 
nature,  which  is  pure  sensualism  and  Fourierism.  You 
destroy  Freedom  by  Necessity  in  your  theory  that  the 
principle  of  Man's  actions  is  the  great  Fluid l  permeating 
his  physical  being  and  putting  his  organs  in  motion  ac- 
cording to  the  fixed  laws  of  its  own  nature  and  the  constitu- 
tion of  those  organs  ;  you  destroy  God  and  you  put  Elec- 

Necessity,  that  is  what  I  would  have  said  if  I  could,  like  you,  handle 
the  divine  language  of  Philosophy." 

1  Greard,  p.  143  :  "  There  is  a  Fluid  which  we  designate  by  the 
diverse  names  of  Light,  Heat,  Electricity,  Magnetism,  Galvanism, 
Attraction,  diverse  effects  of  one  cause,  varied  names  of  that  uni- 
versal principle  which  is  the  life  of  the  universe.  .  .  .  That  is  my 
universe.  If  God  exists  .  .  .  that  embarrasses  me  not  at  all,  for 
this  world,  wholly  material  if  you  like,  wherein  Man  is  but  the 
first  of  the  creatures,  seems  to  me  in  nowise  unworthy  of  Him." 

Ibid.  p.  146  :  "  If  I  dared  to  enter  the  arena  with  you,  I  should 
deny  that  what  you  call  spiritual  really  represents  anything  to  your 
mind.  The  word  itself  means  Truth,  Force,  Electricity.  .  .  .  Does 
your  thought  traverse  the  world  in  less  time  than  that  great 
Fluid  ?  Does  it  act  on  your  body  more  quickly  and  by  a  more 
mysterious  power  than  the  great  fluid  on  matter  ?  Malebranche 
and  the  Cartesians  cannot  bring  themselves  to  cause  the  will  to 
act  on  the  body :  let  them  see  the  Fluid  move  mountains,  and 
let  them  explain  it.  ...  Let  us  fear  that  this  great  quarrel  of 
the  material  and  the  spiritual  be  but  a  misunderstanding.  .  .  .  The 
distinction  renders  inexplicable  and  inconceivable  that  Universal 
Life,  that  great  Fluid,  suspended  between  Matter  and  pure 
Spirit." 

50 


THE   ECOLE   NORMALE 

tricity  in  His  place  in  Nature.  I  conclude  therefrom  that 
you  had  so  slightly  examined  the  nature  of  God,  of  Moral 
Law  and  of  Freedom,  that  you  were  not  convinced  of  their 
existence,  and  that  you  could  easily  sacrifice  them  to  the 
creatures  of  your  own  imagination.  That  is  why  I  have  ad- 
vised you,  and  still  advise  you,  to  read  Kant  on  Moral  Law, 
Descartes  on  the  Existence  of  God,  Maine  de  Biran  and 
Victor  Cousin  on  Freedom,  in  order  to  believe  in  them. 
For  the  present  do  not  dream  of  reconciling  opposite  terms. 
To  reconcile,  you  want  contrary  terms,  in  the  existence  of 
which  you  have  an  invincible  faith ;  whereas  you  have 
now  but  one  term ;  therefore  what  you  have  to  do  now  is, 
with  full  conviction,  to  set  up  a  second  one. 

Notice,  in  passing,  that  this  law  of  the  generation  of 
systems,  which  you  deride,  is  quite  simple.  It  reduces 
itself  to  this  :  before  reconciling  and  explaining  opposite 
notions,  which  is  the  object  of  every  science,  state  your 
opposite  notions ;  since  every  opposition  implies  two  terms, 
state  the  two  terms. 

Now,  of  those  two  terms,  you  have  but  one,  that  which 
is  relative  to  naturalism,  to  the  system  of  necessity,  to 
materialism,  to  the  doctrine  of  pleasure.  Do  you  therefore 
seek  the  other,  and  postpone  reading  Spinoza. 

Let  us  take  your  Fluid  for  an  example.  As  it  is  neither 
dense  nor  tangible,  you  think  you  can  make  of  it  an  inter- 
mediary between  Matter  and  Spirit.  You  think  that  you 
have  there  the  nucleus  of  things,  but  that  is  because  you 
have  but  an  incomplete  idea  of  what  is  material  or  im- 
material. Think,  and  you  will  perceive,  as  the  physicists 
do,  that  you  conceive  it  as  being  extended,  composed  of 
parts  of  elastic  and  constantly  moving  molecules.  Will  you 

51 


LIFE   AND   LETTERS   OF   H.   TAINE 

then  dare  to  say  that  the  fluid,  or  its  movement,  is  your 
own  thought  ? 

You  should  therefore  look  for  the  differences  and  opposi- 
tions before  looking  for  the  Unity  and  the  solutions.  If 
you  say  that  your  fluid  is  not  an  assemblage  or  a  con- 
tinuity of  parts,  but  a  force,  i.e.  a  whole,  an  active  sub- 
stance, how  is  it  comprehensible  that  an  non-extended 
being  should  give  movement  to  Matter  which  can  only  be 
moved  by  contact? 

My  dear  fellow,  you  are  leaping  over  Science  in  order 
to  avoid  going  into  it ;  you  say  "  I  know  "  in  order  to 
dispense  with  research,  and  you  look  down  with  pity  upon 
my  studies  because  you  do  not  feel  the  necessity  for  them. 

Philosophy  is  as  much  a  science  as  Geometry — the 
highest,  the  most  luminous  of  sciences  ;  but  it  is  no  cour- 
tezan, its  favours  are  of  great  price  and  not  given  at  once 
to  all ;  a  long  probation  and  sincere  love  are  necessary 
to  deserve  and  obtain  them. 

That  is  why  I  shall  not  cease  to  exhort  you  to  turn 
towards  Philosophy  and  to  become  its  faithful  servant. 
I  know  no  human  joy,  no  earthly  good  worth  what  Philoso- 
phy can  give,  which  is  Truth,  absolute,  undoubted,  eternal, 
universal  Truth. 

2.  I  must  now  justify  myself.1     You  reproach  me  with 

1  Greard,  p.  149  :  "If  you  were  another  man,  I  should  say  that 
you  prefer  the  quiet  regions  of  an  idle  Philosophy.  .  .  .  But  you 
are  not  of  an  age  or  of  a  character  thus  to  sacrifice  your  beliefs  to 
your  peace  ;  and  what  keeps  you  invincibly  from  such  a  compromise 
is  that  ardent  and  sincere  love  of  Philosophical  Truth  which  trans- 
ports you  and  bursts  out  in  every  line  of  your  letters.  Don  Juan 
had  in  him  such  a  love  for  the  Ideal  Woman.  .  .  .  He  died,  exhausted 
with  fatigue,  consumed  by  his  unsatisfied  love.  Who  knows  .  .  . 

52 


THE   ECOLE   NORMALE 

pursuing  a  chimera  and  neglecting  what  is  important,  i.e. 
Action,  political  Action,  and  Labour,  which  is  useful  to 
mankind. 

Truth  does  not  elude  me,  I  hold  the  principle  of  it ;  I 
have  not  the  universal  explanation,  but  I  have  the  principle 
of  that  explanation,  and  I  advance  every  day  in  the  know- 
ledge of  truth,  without  further  doubt  or  drifting.  I  see, 
I  believe,  I  know.  I  believe  with  all  the  might  of  my  being  ; 
I  cannot  disbelieve,  since  all  the  logical,  psychological, 
and  metaphysical  certainties  unite  to  confirm  me  in  the 
absolute  certainty  wherein  I  have  found  perfect  rest. 
I  cannot  believe  that  my  certainty  deceives  me,  for  now 
that  I  know  the  principle  and  the  cause  of  error,  the 
method  I  have  followed  has  necessarily  been  calculated 
so  as  to  avoid  error  ;  I  cannot  be  driven  from  my  belief  by 
some  contradiction  with  another  belief,  since  mine  is  the 
only  one  which  I  admit  and  from  which  I  derive  all  others 
— since  its  very  nature  is  the  reconciling  of  contraries — 
and  in  fine  since  all  my  researches  on  different  subjects 
bring  fresh  corroboration  to  my  earlier  proofs. 

Be  assured  that  I  value  my  life  and  happiness  too  much 
to  entrust  them  to  anything  fragile.  I  have  wished  for 
something  more  than  geometry,  and  I  have  obtained  it. 

I  do  not  wish  to  throw  myself  yet  into  political  life  ;  I 
shall  abstain,  and  you  know  why.  It  is  because  I  will  not 

if  the  doctrine  you  are  now  embracing  so  fervently  is  not  one  of 
those  imperfect  images  which  deluded  the  hungry  soul  of  Don  Juan  ? 
.  .  .  Your  life  would  then  have  been  nobly  wasted  in  a  pure  research 
and  a  great  delusion.  But  the  time  of  leisure  is  past  when  Don 
•  I ii. in-  could  without  remorse  thus  consume  their  lives.  .  .  .  Each 
must  now  in  his  turn  enter  the  great  arena,  to  fight  and  endure  till 
the  end." 

53 


LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF  H.  TAINE 

take  an  important  step  without  knowing  whether  it  is  a 
good  one  ;  I  will  adopt  no  party  without  knowing  whether 
it  is  in  the  right ;  I  will  defend  no  doctrine  by  my  writings 
without  being  convinced  that  it  is  a  rational  one. 

I  must  therefore  first  of  all  study  the  nature  of  Man,  the 
duties,  the  rights,  the  future  of  the  human  race,  and  the 
direction  in  which  it  is  advancing  at  this  moment.  A  blind 
man  should  sit  down,  for  in  so  doing  he  is  at  least  sure  of 
injuring  nobody. 

As  for  you,  0  strange  man  !  you  are  so  anxious  to  fight 
that  you  want  to  enlist  before  you  know  which  is  the  right 
side  ;  you  are  so  desirous  of  coming  away  from  philosophical 
uselessness  and  idleness  that  you  are  ready  to  run  the  risk 
of  doing  harm.  Is  that  reasonable  ?  And  do  you  not  feel 
that  the  greater  and  the  more  seductive  your  eloquence, 
the  more  likely  you  are  to  be  harmful  ?  What,  then,  will 
you  be  ?  A  slave  ? — for  I  call  a  slave  whoever  acts  through 
prejudice,  passion,  and  party  spirit,  and  does  not  obey  the 
demonstrations  of  reason  alone.  Why,  my  friend,  if  you 
were  a  common  man,  a  small  or  weak  spirit,  a  man  without 
courage  and  without  love  of  truth,  I  should  tell  you  to 
follow  the  stream,  to  abandon  yourself  to  chance,  to  be 
like  those  numberless  adventurers  or  fools  from  amongst 
whom  parties  are  recruited.  But  you  are  not  made  to 
remain  in  that  crowd,  you  will  come  away  from  it,  and, 
since  you  are  made  to  command  and  to  govern,  you  must 
learn  what  is  the  true  goal.  Do  you  wish  to  be  a  mere  war 
machine  ?  And  do  you  not  feel  with  what  bitter  grief  you 
may  one  day  be  overcome,  when,  after  a  battle,  whether 
victorious  or  vanquished,  standing  amongst  all  the  debris 
with  which  a  political  struggle  will  strew  the  ground,  you 

54 


THE   ECOLE   NORMALE 

will  doubt  yourself,  and  wonder  whether  you  have  indeed 
served  a  good  cause  or  whether  all  your  efforts  have  re- 
sulted in  harm  to  your  country.  That  is  a  horrible  doubt, 
and  rather  than  be  exposed  to  it  I  would  prefer  to  abstain 
for  ever  from  any  sort  of  action.  Do  not  retort  that  at 
that  rate  no  one  would  ever  act  at  all ;  the  ignorant  and 
brutal  masses  are  guided  by  a  blind  instinct  which  carries 
a  nation  safely  through  every  revolution.  There  is  no 
middle  course  between  the  ignorance  of  the  peasant,  who 
votes  according  to  the  interest  of  his  field  and  the  custom 
of  his  village,  and  the  science  of  the  philosopher,  who  votes 
according  to  his  metaphysical  doctrines  and  his  opinions 
on  History.  Between  these  two  extreme  limits  rolls  the 
contemptible  crowd  of  dogmatical  semi-scientists  who 
combine  the  peasant's  ignorance  with  the  philosopher's 
confidence ;  from  their  ranks  proceed  all  ambitious  and 
dangerous  men  ;  they  do  all  the  harm,  because,  lacking 
both  Instinct,  which,  though  blind,  is  sure,  and  Science, 
which  is  infallible,  they  are  without  that  which  supports 
Society  and  guides  Revolutions.  Be  reassured  on  my  ac- 
count, but  do  reassure  me  on  yours  :  that  ardour  for  action 
which  I  know  so  well  is  now  making  an  effort  to  escape. 
You  have  but  one  means  of  controlling  and  containing  it, 
which  is  to  turn  it  towards  the  things  of  the  mind.  Pure 
speculation,  which  you  look  upon  as  so  barren,  is  the 
principle  of  all  things.  Thought  is  the  condition  of  de- 
velopment of  all  the  human  faculties,  and  without  it  there 
is  no  salvation.  Do  you  count  calm  for  nothing  ?  I  know 
what  you  are  suffering ;  that  sceptical  agitation,  that 
impetuous  activity,  that  fever  of  ambitious,  sensual,  and 
political  desires,  do  these  make  you  happy  ?  Can  you  live, 

55 


LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF  H:  TAINE 

harbouring  such  guests  ?  And  when  you  have  to  arrange 
their  places  and  allot  to  each  its  domain,  do  you  not  see 
that  you  must  first  of  all  light  a  beacon  in  your  own  soul  ? 

I  am  always  coming  back  to  the  same  subject,  my  dear 
Prevost ;  forgive  me  and  tell  me  truthfully  whether  I  weary 
you.  With  my  adoration  for  the  truths  of  Reason,  and 
my  absolute  confidence  in  the  power  of  the  intellect,  I  am 
like  a  Catholic  who  can  speak  of  nothing  but  the  Church 
and  the  Faith.  But  I,  at  least,  can  prove  what  I  say,  and 
no  one  can  get  out  of  reach  of  the  doctrine  of  which  I  am 
possessed  without  at  the  same  time  placing  himself  en- 
tirely outside  Reason. 

If  you  knew  what  joy,  what  rest  it  is  to  know  how  far 
the  soul  extends  beyond  and  above  events,  and  how  much 
it  participates  in  the  absolute  nature  of  the  Being  !  Listen 
to  me,  if  only  for  the  sake  of  your  political  opinions  :  all  the 
discourses  you  are  about  to  write  on  the  Right  of  Property 
and  of  Association,  on  the  nature  of  Government,  on  the 
Future  of  France,  etc.,  all  that  will  be  weak  and  worthless 
if  you  do  not  soar  to  a  higher  plane.  Do  you  want  to  treat 
political  subjects  as  if  they  were  matter  for  essay  writing 
or  oratory  ?  But  you  are  neither  a  phrase-monger  nor 
a  sceptic  ;  on  the  contrary,  you  are  a  believer,  and  a 
believer  after  the  Catholic  fashion,  without  really  seeing 
or  knowing. 

One  of  my  old  friends  (M.  Cornelia  de  Witt)  has  just 
returned  from  England,  where  he  lived  for  two  months 
in  the  intimacy  of  M.  Guizot,  with  whom  he  was  already 
acquainted.  He  has  brought  back  some  written  counsels 
as  to  studies  preparatory  to  political  life.  You  should  see 
how  deep  and  how  detailed  those  studies  are  ! 

56 


THE  ECOLE   NORMALE 

If  you  persist  in  reading  Spinoza,  read  it  slowly  and 
prudently.  I  am  only  half  his  disciple.  I  think  he  is 
mistaken  concerning  several  fundamental  questions. 

To  Mademoiselle  Virginie  Taine. 

April  10,  1849. 

I  have  just  had  five  days  holidays  for  Easter ;  the 
Director  sent  for  me  and  himself  offered  me  leave  of  absence. 
It  was  very  kind,  was  it  not  ?  It  seems  that  I  have  ac- 
quired at  the  Ecole  the  reputation  of  a  hard-worker  and  a 
philosopher,  and  the  administration  is  crediting  me  with 
the  profits  in  advance.  I  therefore  spent  those  five  days 
in  the  country  with  Uncle  Alexandre,  but  unluckily  cholera, 
or  a  sort  of  mild  imitation  of  it,  seized  hold  of  me  and 
laid  me  low  during  those  five  days.  You  can  imagine  how 
bored  I  was  ;  I  had  just  left  at  the  Ecole  a  life  the  most 
active,  hard-working  and  productive  possible  ;  I  felt  as 
if  I  had  descended  into  a  cellar.  And  all  my  hopes  of 
concerts  and  theatres  !  all  ended  in  smoke  !  !  Well,  I  am 
better  to-day  and  I  am  writing  to  you  from  the  Ecole  to 
which  I  have  returned  nearly  cured.  Almost  every  one 
in  Paris  is  indisposed  in  the  same  way,  so  that  I  have  not 
felt  anxious.  Do  not  be  anxious  either  ;  I  am  in  good 
health  now,  and  I  have  paid  the  tax  ;  cholera  will  not  send 
its  bailiffs  to  me  again. 

Do  not  display  your  taste  for  Art,  Literature  and  Science  ; 
keep  alHhose  things  to  yourself ;  they  would  seem  ridiculous 
to  your  present  surroundings  ' ;  you  would  be  thought 
enthusiastic  and  romantic.  Write  to  me,  and  tell  me  about 

1  Mile.  Virginie  Taine  was  at  that  time  on  a  visit  to  some  friends 
in  the  Ardennes. 

57 


LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF  H.  TAINE 

your  thoughts  ;  I  care  not  for  news  but  for  confidences. 
Tell  me  what  are  the  words  and  sentences  in  Bracebridge 
Hall  which  you  do  not  understand,  and  I  will  tell  you 
their  meaning. 

To  Prtvost-Paradd. 

April  18,  1849. 

I  have  just  read  your  letter ;  that  is  how  I  like  you. 
Always  write  to  me  like  that,  abandoning  yourself  to  your 
ideas  or  your  feelings  ;  is  it  not  the  best  mark  of  friendship 
to  write  everything,  without  an  effort  at  softening  or  dis- 
guising, without  fear  of  offending  or  saddening  ? 

I  pity  you,  my  poor  friend,  I  could  cure  you  and  you  will 
not  let  me  !  I  shall  continue  to  wish  it,  but  I  am  afraid 
it  will  soon  be  too  late.  Politics  will  carry  you  away,  you 
will  enrol  under  a  flag,  and  when  you  are  living  a  life  of 
action,  how  can  you  return  to  a  life  of  Thought  ?  The 
return  path  will  be  closed,  perhaps  it  is  so  already  !  Is  it 
not  this  ardour  for  politics  and  for  action  which  prevents 
you  from  studying  and  seeking  for  light  ?  Is  he  not 
already  blind  who  denies  the  need  for  light  ? 

What  a  misfortune,  and  how  sorry  I  am  ! !  What  a 
waste  !  The  more  I  read  your  letters  over,  the  more  sad- 
dened I  feel.  I  see  in  them  the  most  ardent  soul,  the  most 
generous,  most  devoted  heart,  the  gifts  of  Wit,  Logic, 
Style,  etc.,  everything  that  makes  a  most  amiable,  most 
capable,  most  estimable  man.  What  is  the  good  of  it  all  ? 
it  merely  makes  you  unhappy.  See,  my  friend,  how  un- 
happy you  already  are,  see  how  your  ardour  for  action, 
your  sensuous  desires  and  your  unreflecting  eagerness 
wandering  here  and  there  without  finding  a  resting-place, 

58 


THE   ECOLE   NORMALE 

weaken  your  body,  your  will,  and  your  mind !  You 
can  have  no  hopes  for  the  happiness  of  that  friend  of  whom 
you  speak  ;  you  were  his  master ;  you  have  gone  with 
me  into  the  depths  of  Scepticism,  and  we  have  brought 
back  with  us  a  drop  of  poisoned  liquor,  which  will  tarnish 
all  our  beliefs,  and  only  find  its  antidote  in  absolute  Science. 
You  refuse  the  antidote  ;  well,  I  assure  you  that  the 
disease  will  follow  you,  and  that,  though  you  may  try  to 
ignore  it,  it  will  clutch  you  by  the  throat  in  the  middle  of 
your  most  passionate  efforts  in  the  service  of  your  most 
cherished  opinions.  Do  you  not  remember  that  we  have 
carried  Doubt  to  its  extreme  limits,  that  we  have  denied 
everything,  Fatherland,  Duty,  Thought  and  Happiness, 
and  that  we  have  exulted  in  Destruction.  Not  with  impu- 
nity can  we  feed  upon  such  pabulum  !  it  imparts  too  exalted 
a  spirit  to  allow  of  being  lured  by  the  baits  which  captivate 
mankind.  Unless  you  destroy  yourself  you  will  ever  feel 
contempt  for  the  coarse  tribunes  with  whom  you  wish  to 
ally  yourself  ;  you  will  feel  within  yourself  Doubt  concern- 
ing opinions  founded  on  mere  probabilities  such  as  those 
which  you  describe.  And,  supposing  you  steep  yourself 
altogether  in  those  convictions,  would  not  that  be  a  yet 
greater  misfortune  ?  To  lose  sight  of  the  light,  to  descend 
to  the  level  of  other  men,  to  become  a  simple  machine  in 
the  service  of  a  personal  passion  or  an  alien  opinion,  lose 
Freedom,  in  fact — for  the  only  Freedom  is  that  of  the  mind 
— that  would  no  longer  be  Life  ;  I  would  sooner  be  dead. 

When  I  think  of  what  you  are,  I  see  everything  in  you, 
save  the  power  of  will.  How  much  you  have  which  I  lack, 
and  how  willingly  I  would  exchange  my  baggage  for  yours 
if,  of  all  I  possess,  I  could  only  keep  the  will  to  make  use 

59 


LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF  H.  TAINE 

of  my  new  lot !  Consider  that  I  have  never  done  anything 
save  through  strength  of  will  and  intelligence  !  my  nature 
was  poor  and  refractory,  and  I  could  only  understand  Art 
through  my  mind,  and  the  Beautiful  through  philosophy 
and  analysis.  Your  nature  is  a  rich  one,  you  have  the 
nature  of  an  artist  and  that  of  a  speaker,  besides  that  of 
a  thinker,  which  is  common  to  us  both.  Not  one  of  the 
students  I  have  ever  met  had  such  gifts  or  could  feel  with 
such  depth.  You  can  understand  then  how  much  I  am 
attached  to  you,  how  much  I  should  suffer  in  seeing  you 
fall  into  error,  misfortune  or  powerlessness,  and  what  hopes 
I  have  founded  on  you !  Do  not  overturn  them  !  There 
are  so  few  who  can !  Must  it  be  that  those  who  can  will  not? 

I  should  be  very  happy  if  I  knew  what  succour  could 
reclaim  you  from  the  abyss  into  which  you  are  sinking  and 
where  the  ground  is  daily  giving  way  under  you.  What 
can  I  do,  if  not  give  you  myself  for  an  example  ?  for  you 
will  then  believe  me,  you  will  not  doubt  my  sincerity. 
Know  therefore  that  I  have  the  same  causes  for  sadness 
that  you  have,  greater  even  perhaps — that  I  have  no  one 
to  understand  them,  either  here  or  elsewhere,  whilst  you 
had  two  friends — that  I  suffer,  that  I  work  in  loneliness — 
and  yet  that  I  am  at  peace.  The  serenity  of  the  mind 
ultimately  appeases  the  storms  of  the  soul ;  the  attitude 
to  which  it  carries  one  allows  of  indifference  and  contempt 
without  destroying  sympathy  and  desire.  What  more  can 
I  add  ?  For  no  doubt  happiness  is  what  you  desire  ;  you 
have  it  not,  and  I — not  with  the  reasonings  which  you 
despise,  but  from  experience,  and  with  tangible  proofs, 
I  tell  you  where  it  is. 

What  more  do  you  want  ?     Why  do  you  give  no  answer 

60 


THE   ECOLE   NORMALE 

to  the  prayers  and  arguments  with  which  I  fill  my  letters  ? 
Am  I  to  believe,  like  Spinoza,  that  "  sometimes  a  passion 
clings  to  the  soul  of  man  with  so  much  force  that  he  is  power- 
less to  drive  it  away  "  ? 

Forgive  me  for  recurring  to  this  so  often  ;  you  know  my 
reasons  well :  it  is  because  I  love  you,  and  I  believe  this  love 
is  of  the  best  and  strongest  kind,  since  what  I  love  in  you 
is  your  excellent  nature,  which  your  weakness  is  vainly 
attempting  to  spoil.  Do  not  believe  that  this  affection 
can  be  altered  by  the  difference  in  our  opinions  ;  if  I  exhort 
you  so  much  to  come  into  my  camp,  merely  on  the  strength 
of  my  word,  it  is  less  in  order  to  enjoy  the  pleasure  of  our 
concord  than  to  see  you  reach  the  point  which  you  deserve 
to  reach — I  mean  Truth.  Moreover,  you  will  never  become 
bigoted  in  your  doctrines.  I  tell  you,  you  have  Scepticism 
in  your  heart,  and  you  will  harbour  this  unfortunate  guest 
until  you  consent  to  imitate  me. 

Do  you  not  remember  that  walk  we  took  together  three 
months  ago,  your  confessions  and  mine  ?  Oh  !  Socialist, 
what  were  you  then  ?  Did  you  not  own  to  me  that  you 
were  dogmatical  with  the  vulgar,  but  that  to  me  you 
acknowledged  all  your  beliefs  to  be  probabilities  ? 

How  is  it  that  those  fragile  shelters  which  you  laughed 
at  with  me  have  suddenly  become  invincible  edifices, 
capable  of  sheltering  your  whole  life  and  of  covering  Hu- 
manity? Do  you  not  remember  that  you  are  going 
through  a  temporary  phase  ?  Do  you  want  to  treat  me 
like  an  N.  For  my  part,  I  shall  never  look  upon  you  as  a 
Materialist  or  a  Socialist ;  I  know  what  you  are,  and  you 
will  not  delude  me.  You  are  a  Sceptic,  and  your  present 
belief  in  merely  provisional. 

61 


LIFE   AND   LETTERS   OF   H.   TAINE 

I  do  not  act  thus  with  you ;  here  I  hold  my  peace,  I 
hide  myself ;  I  conceal  my  faith,  it  would  cause  me  to  be 
mocked  and  persecuted  ;  I  work  in  silence,  and,  like  a 
miner,  I  dig  further  and  further,  and  fall  into  fresh  pits. 
I  will  know,  I  shall  believe  !  I  know  already  and  I  believe  ! 
Ah !  if  you  would  !  If  you  were  reasonable  enough  to 
postpone  your  political  life,  to  wait  until  you  enter  the 
Ecole  and  come  to  work  with  me  !  I  do  not  yet  despair 
of  it ;  you  write  to-day  as  one  who  is  sick  in  body 
and  mind.  And  why  accuse  me  of  being  a  speculative 
dreamer  ?  Do  you  believe  that  I  wish  to  devote  my  whole 
life  to  pure  Science  ?  Action  will  have  its  share,  but  in  its 
proper  time,  and,  when  I  know  how  to  act,  Social  Philo- 
sophy will  be  for  me  a  commentary  and  a  corollary  of  the 
Philosophy  of  History  and  Metaphysic.  Do  you  not  know 
that  that  is  how  M.  Proud'hon,  the  great  Socialist,  began, 
and  that  his  Bank  for  the  People  is  but  the  scientific  conclu- 
sion from  a  demonstration  ? 

One  word  more  :  it  hurt  you  much  to  hear  your  young 
friend  say,  "  Who  knows  but  that  on  my  death  bed  I  shall 
ask  for  a  priest  ?  "  With  your  plausible  and  vacillating 
opinions,  are  you  sure  that  you  will  not  do  likewise  ?  Do 
not  laugh.  M.  Gratry,  one  of  the  most  distinguished 
students  of  the  Ecole  Polytechnique,  who  obtained  the 
prize  for  Philosophy  at  the  Concours,  and  who  for  a  long 
time  was  a  passionate  adept  of  St.  Simon,  has  become  a 
Catholic  Priest.  He  is  now  our  Chaplain. 

It  is  terrible  to  think  of,  is  it  not  ?  Dare  you,  after  that, 
reject  Philosophy,  and  refuse  to  seek  its  demonstrations  ? 
As  long  as  that  invincible  breviary,  the  geometry  of  things, 
is  not  on  your  table,  I  will  answer  neither  for  you  nor  for 

62 


THE   ECOLE   NORMALE 

myself,  nor  for  any  one.  Science  is  an  anchor,  for  who- 
ever has  it  not  may  drift  towards  breakers  where  he  least 
expects  to  find  them. 

Farewell ;  write  to  me  as  much  as  you  can.  I  will  speak 
to  you  of  my  philosophy  whenever  you  like.  My  God  has 
nothing  in  common  with  the  Executioner-God  of  Christian- 
ity, or  the  Man-God  of  philosophers  of  the  second  rank. 
He  is  the  Absolute  Positive,  that  is  to  say  the  one  and 
complete  realization  of  the  whole  being,  and  everything 
within  Him  and  without  Him  is  necessary  as  He  is. 

If  this  may  attract  you  to  my  opinions,  I  will  tell  you 
that,  like  you,  I  believe  in  the  legitimacy  of  passions  and 
in  the  identity  of  the  Laws  of  the  World  and  the  Laws  of 
Humanity  and  of  the  Thought.  But  it  is  necessary  that 
we  should  understand  each  other. 

Have  courage,  and  spare  me  a  little  of  the  affection  which 
you  had  for  the  friend  you  lost. 

As  to  the  young  man  of  whom  you  speak,  the  next  time 
I  see  him  I  will  take  with  me  the  written  advice  of  M. 
Guizot. 

To  the  same. 

May  1,  1849. 

MY  DEAR  FRIEND, — Since  you  have  decided  to  be  printed 
alive,  and  do  not  answer  my  objections,  I  look  upon  you  as 
fallen  into  final  impenitence.  Therefore,  dear  damned  one, 
I  accept  you  as  such,  and  I  am  going  to  converse  with  you 
as  if  you  had  definitively  gone  to  Hell — I  mean,  to  Socialism. 
You  will  show  me  your  coming  publication  before  giving 
it  to  the  newspapers  ;  I  rely  upon  you  to  do  so.  You  know 
that  four  eyes  can  see  better  than  two,  and  that  he  who 

03 


LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF  H.  TAINE 

did  not  compose  the  work  sees  more  clearly,  perhaps,  than 
he  who  has  dazzled  himself  by  polishing  it  up  in  all  its  parts. 
I  must  tell  you  frankly  beforehand  that  there  is  one  fault 
I  fear.  You  remember  M.  Baudrillart's  address  to  young 
men  ?  it  was  warm,  well  worked  out,  serious,  but  it  was 
too  rhetorical,  too  academical ;  too  much  care  in  its  form 
and  a  too  great  desire  to  make  it  dramatic  spoiled  an  excel- 
lent composition,  and  gave  it  the  air  of  a  schoolboy's  work. 
I  suspect  from  your  letter  that  you  run  the  same  risk  with 
your  literary  form,  so  scholarly  and  so  animated,  your 
alternate  arguments  from  both  sides,  your  assumption 
of  the  part  of  counsellor,  your  attempts  at  good  style.  I 
fear  that  your  composition  may  be  more  suitable  for  the 
Ecole  Normale  than  for  the  Press.  The  Press  demands 
less  art,  fewer  ornaments  ;  it  requires  either  a  scientifically 
logical  or  business-like  style. 

You  must  be  careful  of  your  first  step,  Did  not  I  tell 
you  that  in  your  last  work  on  M.  Michelet  there  was  some- 
thing which  still  savoured  of  the  class  room  ?  Those  fine 
phrases  after  the  manner  of  Rousseau,  harmonious,  rich, 
elegant,  those  long  and  happy  inversions  would  seem  out 
of  place.  In  these  times  words  are  actions,  and  we  do  not 
want  flowers  on  the  points  of  bayonets.  Take  your  flowers 
away  if  you  can  ;  take  a  less  beautiful  form,  more  abrupt, 
more  striking,  drier,  less  worthy  of  an  artist,  more  worthy 
of  a  pamphleteer.  Succeed  you  must ;  it  will  be  my  only 
consolation  for  your  resolution.  Instead  of  the  silence 
you  refuse  me,  give  me  victory. 

You  will  forgive  all  this,  I  hope  ;  you  know  that  I  tell 
you  everything  as  freely  as  I  tell  myself,  and  I  never  love 
you  more  than  when  you  do  the  same  for  me. 

64 


THE   ECOLE   NORMALE 

I  hardly  had  time  to  say  a  few  words  to  you  at  our  la&t 
meeting.  Letters  are  short,  and  I  have  no  time  now  to 
to  make  them  long.  Nevertheless,  I  want  to  converse 
with  you  about  Politics. 

I  came  of  age  a  week  ago,  but  I  shall  not  vote,  though 
I  might.  I  find  myself  incapable  of  it,  and  this  is  why  : 

I  have  but  two  firm  opinions  in  Politics  :  the  first  is  that 
the  right  of  property  is  absolute ;  I  mean  that  Man  may 
unreservedly  appropriate  things  to  himself,  do  what  he 
likes  with  them,  destroy  them  when  he  possesses  them, 
leave  them  to  his  heirs,  etc.,  that  ownership  is  a  right 
anterior  to  the  State,  like  individual  liberty  ;  that  Man 
possesses  things  absolutely  and  in  their  intrinsic  value, 
not  according  to  the  value  he  has  given  them. 

The  second  is  that  all  the  political  rights  of  a  citizen  are 
reduced  to  one  only,  which  is  to  consent  to  the  existing 
form  of  government,  either  explicitly  or  tacitly,  that  con- 
sequently all  forms  of  government  are  indifferent  in  them- 
selves and  borrow  their  legitimacy  from  the  acquiescence 
of  the  nation.  Beyond  that  I  know  nothing  ;  I  am  there- 
fore incapable  of  voting,  for  two  reasons  : 

The  first  is  that,  in  order  to  vote,  I  should  have  to 
know  the  condition  of  France,  its  ideas,  manners  and 
customs,  opinions,  and  future,  for  the  true  government  is 
that  which  is  appropriate  to  the  civilization  of  the  people. 
I  therefore  lack  a  primary  element  for  judging  of  the  best 
actual  government,  I  do  not  know  what  is  suitable  to 
France.  Consequently,  I  cannot  vote  for  the  Republic 
or  a  Monarchy,  neither  for  universal  or  restricted  suffrage, 
for  M.  Gulzot,  M.  Cavaignac  nor  M.  Ledru  Rollin. 

The  second  is  that,  even  if  I  knew  what  would  be  suitable 

65  F 


LIFE   AND   LETTERS   OF   H.   TAINE 

to  France,  I  have  too  little  knowledge  of  the  merit,  probity 
or  opinions  of  the  divers  candidates  to  be  able  to  choose 
between  them.  I  have  not  been  watching  political  life 
very  long  yet,  and,  from  all  I  have  read  and  seen,  I  have 
gathered  but  a  chaos  of  contradictory  judgments,  which 
leave  me  in  a  state  of  complete  doubt. 

Therefore  I  abstain. 

Passion,  in  default  of  Reason,  cannot  push  me  towards 
one  of  the  two  parties.  To  begin  with,  you  know  I  never 
do  anything  from  passion.  Then  I  declare  that  both 
parties  revolt  and  disgust  me.  They  seem  to  me  like 
a  lot  of  wretched  idiots,  drunken  and  furious,  who  stir  up 
shovelfuls  of  calumny  and  dirt,  and  throw  them  in  each 
other's  faces.  My  whole  nature  as  a  philosopher  and  an 
artist  rises  with  disgust ;  I  should  be  sick  if  I  did  not  laugh 
with  contempt.  And  I  often  wonder  whether  the  Peuple 
is  not  a  newspaper  invented  by  the  Reactionaries  and  the 
Constitutionnd  bribed  by  Socialists. 

I  do  feel  that  the  one  is  the  party  of  the  present  and 
the  other  the  party  of  the  future.  But  when  I  look  at 
those  two  legions  of  vulgar  fanatics  tramping  in  the  mire 
I  see  no  good  in  either  of  them.  I  look  for  reasons  amongst 
the  arguments  which  they  fling  at  each  other,  and  I  find 
but  empty  declarations  and  commonplace  assertions.  It 
is  a  war  between  those  who  want  to  keep  everything  for 
themselves  and  let  the  others  starve,  and  those  who  try 
to  rob  others  of  what  they  have  got.  Therefore,  leaving 
to  themselves  those  who  preach  civil  war,  I  go  back  to 
pure  science,  persuaded  that  there  is  some  good  in  the 
present  and  in  the  future  ;  in  the  present  because  it  exists, 
in  the  future  because  it  is  to  come.  I  intend  to  seek  for 

66 


THE    ECOLE   NORMALE 

this  good  as  soon  as  I  can.  I  am  studying  for  that  purpose, 
pondering  on  Philosophy  and  History  in  order  to  attain 
social  science,  and  trying  to  determine  what  is  good  and 
what  is  durable  in  our  state  of  things,  what  should  be 
altered,  and  what  the  future  will  bring. 

I  hold  my  peace  and  wait. 

Good-bye,  good  health  to  you,  you  poor  sufferer  in  body 
and  in  mind  !  ! 

If  you  write  to  Planat,  tell  him  I  shall  go  and  take  him 
my  answer  on  Thursday,  about  one  o'clock.  My  letter 
would  be  too  short,  and  I  have  too  little  time. 

Farewell.  Remember  Paul  Louis  Courier.1  Non  quce 
sapiat,  dictio,  sed  quce  feriat. 

To  the  same. 

July  10,  1849. 

MY  DEAR  PRKVOST, — I  have  been  a  long  time  without 
writing,  for  two  reasons.  My  mother  came  to  Paris  for 
a  fortnight,  and  I  have  been  spending  my  half-holidays 
with  her.  The  rest  of  the  week  was  taken  up  by  prepara- 
tion for  the  Licentiate.  We  are  going  up  for  the  examina- 
tion in  a  week.  Ah  !  my  friend,  what  a  grind  !  !  How 
thoroughly  sick  I  am  of  it  all !  I  am  busy  just  now  learning 
the  dates  of  the  births  and  deaths  of  various  authors,  and 
those  of  their  works,  in  writing  out  analyses  and  accounts, 
in  studying  the  texts  from  a  grammatical  point  of  view? 
in  stuffing  my  brains  with  the  sense  of  a  quantity  of  words 
I  did  not  know  before,  in  a  word  in  providing  myself  with  all 
the  wires  with  which  to  pull  those  old  University  marionettes. 
It  Is  schoolboy  work,  and  yet  it  is  the  subject  of  our  first 

1  In  English  in  the  original. 
67 


LIFE   AND   LETTERS   OF   H.    TAINE 

year  studies  ;  if  we  are  to  believe  M.  Dubois,  it  is  all  we 
need  trouble  about.  That  is  why  we  are  overwhelmed 
with  preparatory  compositions,  all  of  them  lamentably 
done.  We  all  worked  together  at  our  Greek  exercises, 
interrupting  each  other  now  and  then  with  barkings, 
mewings,  and  whinnyings,  the  class-room  became  a 
regular  menagerie  ;  it  was  the  same  thing  for  Philosophy. 
The  questions  are  for  the  most  part  absurd.  And  now 
M.  le  Directeur  sends  us  word  that  he  Is  taking  particular 
account  of  our  compositions,  and  that  he  seeks  in  each  the 
moral  and  intellectual  (his  own  words!)  qualities  of  each  of  us. 

You  are  probably  in  the  same  trouble.  How  do  Greek 
exercises,  Latin  verse,  dissertations  and  discourses,  silly 
rhetorical  stuff,  compare  with  the  Politics  that  you  love  and 
the  Philosophy  which  I  study  !  Yet  I  wish  you  good  cheer. 
It  is  a  bitter  drug  to  swallow,  but  you  must  swallow  it, 
since  teaching  is  your  real  career  and  your  real  resource, 
since  a  cloistered  life  alone  can  give  you  the  time  for  thought 
and  the  knowledge  which  you  want  for  your  politics,  and 
especially  since  you  are  the  head  of  your  family1  and  require 
a  situation  in  order  to  be  able  to  help  your  people. 

Human  life  is  in  truth  a  strange  thing.  So  much  work, 
disgust,  sadness  and  constraint,  to  end  in  what  ?  in  a  state 
which  will  be  similar.  To  repeat  the  same  lectures  every 
year,  to  live  with  boys  or  youths,  to  be  narrowed  within 
a  fixed  programme,  unable  to  go  more  deeply  into  anything, 
or  to  hazard  an  opinion  in  a  lesson,  all  for  a  meagre  salary, 
such  is  the  life  of  a  Professor.  And  yet  it  is  better  than  any 
other  career.  The  military  man  is  but  an  Idle  slave  ;  the 

1  M.  Provost,  senr.,  was  old  and  infirm,  and  Anatole  Prevost- 
Paradol  had  two  sisters  younger  than  himself. 

68 


THE    ECOLE    NORMALE 

judge,  the  notary,  the  advocate,  the  lawyer  are  over- 
whelmed with  worry  about  small  things,  mercenary 
questions,  miserable  little  private  quarrels  which  refine  the 
mind  and  narrow  the  heart.  Commerce  is  just  the  same. 
A  professor  is  at  least  free,  save  for  eight  hours  a  week  ; 
when  he  is  teaching,  he  is  engaged  in  things  of  the  mind, 
exalted,  and  free  from  the  littleness  of  practical  life,  and 
the  rest  of  his  time  is  his  own.  Happy  are  the  rich,  they 
are  not  subjected  to  this  slavery  which  I  shall  have  to 
impose  on  myself.  They  are  not  obliged  to  sell  one  quarter 
of  their  life  to  redeem  the  rest  from  poverty,  and  to  enjoy 
the  virile  exercises  of  thought  and  action.  Being  obliged 
to  sell  myself,  I  have  tried  to  sell  as  little  of  myself  as  I 
could.  I  shall  try  to  live  with  the  rest. 

There  are  but  there  modes  of  living  in  this  world  :  1,  Pure 
Thought  or  Philosophy  ;  2,  Politics  or  Action,  i.e.  the 
putting  into  practice  of  Thought  in  the  order  of  Truth  ; 
3,  Art,  i.e.  the  putting  into  practice  of  Thought  in  the 
order  of  Beauty.  How  happy  is  the  man  who  can  from 
the  start  give  himself  up  to  one  of  these  three! 

We  are  all  obliged  to  bargain,  to  compromise,  to  divide 
ourselves  between  God  and  the  devil.  "  Quality,"  says 
La  Bruyere,  "  sets  a  man  on  his  way  ;  it  makes  him  gain 
thirty  years." 

You  will  think  me  rather  an  aristocrat.  It  is  not  accord- 
ing to  popular  tastes  to  hate  those  ordinary  careers  in  which 
each  man  may  have  his  share  of  usefulness  to  mankind. 
Alas,  my  dear  friend,  what  would  you  have  ?  The  more 
I  see  of  real  life,  the  more  I  dislike  it,  the  more  it  seems  to 
me  that  the  men  who  live  it  are  belittled  by  their  functions 
and  habits,  the  more  I  wish  for  independence  ! 

69 


LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF  H.  TAINE 

But  my  misfortune  is  that  my  desires  are  more  exalted 
than  my  mind,  I  dislike  myself  as  much  as  the  others  ; 
I  feel  that  I  am,  and  shall  ever  be,  small,  quite  small,  and 
that  however  much  an  ungrateful  soil  be  cultivated  it  can 
yield  but  what  it  contains.  I  therefore  entertain  a  per- 
manent and  necessary  sadness,  and  my  only  consolation 
is  that  the  game  will  only  last  forty  or  fifty  years  at  the 
most,  and  that  at  the  end  of  it  all  is  Rest,  eternal  sleep,  I 
hope.  The  incidents  on  the  road  have  not  much  importance 
when  there  is  a  good  bed  to  be  found  at  the  inn. 

Why  does  not  your  brochure  come  out  ? 

To  the  same. 

July  18,  1849. 

I  was  looking  for  your  letter.  As  I  expected,  the  difficul- 
ties in  the  way  of  the  extreme  resolution  which  you  propose1 
come  from  yourself  only.  I  have  nothing  to  say  about 
that ;  one  cannot  change  a  man.  Yet,  I  do  not  know 
whether  you  examine  yourself  rightly.  You  create  a 
monster  out  of  a  condition  which  has  nothing  horrible  in 
itself,  and  which  I  think  you  could  bear  without  too  great 
an  effort  of  the  will  or  too  many  wounds  to  your  pride. 

There  is  nothing  shameful  in  helping  boys  with  their 
preparation,  in  proving  to  them  that  their  Professor  at 
college  knows  nothing,  in  showing  them  what  a  quantity 
of  work  will  be  necessary  before  they  can  reach  the  point 
one  has  oneself  reached.  All  depends  on  the  way  it  is 

1  Prevost-Paradol  had  spoken  of  enlisting  or  else  finding  some 
mean  clerkship  if  he  failed  to  be  admitted  into  the  Ecole  Normale. 
He  declared  that  nothing  would  induce  him  to  accept  a  post  as 
preparation  master  in  the  boarding-school  that  he  was  about  to  leave. 

70 


THE    ECOLE    NORMALE 

done  ;  I  have  seen  some  preparation  masters  mocked 
because  they  had  neither  instruction,  gravity  nor  intelli- 
gence ;  others,  who  had  maintained  their  prestige  and 
convinced  the  students  of  their  own  ignorance,  led  them 
like  sheep.  A  preparation  master  may  be  a  serf  or  a  lord. 

As  to  strength  of  will,  you  malign  yourself.  Why,  old 
fellow,  why  should  you,  with  your  firm  character,  your  in- 
clination to  opposition,  be  incapable  of  forming  a  strong 
decision  ?  We  have  so  often  spoken  of  the  pleasure  of 
doing  one's  own  will  over  and  against  all  others  that  I 
thought  you  had  experienced  it.  But  let  us  put  aside 
the  question  of  will  and  merely  calculate  the  advantages, 
the  pleasure  and  usefulness  of  it.  When  once  you  are 
admitted  to  the  Ecole  you  have  rest,  a  quiet  life,  solid 
instruction,  great  chances  of  improvement  for  your  mind, 
and  a  means  of  rising  in  the  world  without  the  fear  of  all 
those  troubles  which  arise  from  below  and  clutch  us  by 
the  throat.  It  is,  moreover,  but  the  continuation  of  the 
perhaps  rather  disagreeable  work,  which  you  have  been 
going  through  during  the  last  two  years  ;  to  give  it  up 
would  be  to  lose  what  you  have  already  gained.  Finally, 
you  might  look  upon  the  work  as  a  task  and  a  penance, 
and  give  up  the  rest  of  your  time  to  philosophy  and  politics. 

Now  consider  the  other  mode  of  life.  No  future,  to  begin 
with  ;  a  hole  out  of  which  you  might  painfully  struggle 
with  the  help  of  your  pen  ;  all  the  troubles  and  disappoint- 
ments of  a  literary  career  ;  powerful  enemies  ;  an  insuffi- 
cient education,  whence  a  necessary  weakness  and  not 
much  chance  of  distinguishing  yourself.  For  it  is  not 
enough  to  write  well  and  to  have  original  ideas.  In  order 
to  become  somebody  you  must  have  knowledge  and  an 

71 


LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF  H.  TAINE 

experienced  mind.  Then  it  is  certain  that  in  the  little 
situation  that  you  wish  for  you  would  have  more  mecha- 
nical and  unpleasant  work  than  in  your  boarding-school. 
Do  you  like  figures,  copying,  writing  invoices  and  making 
up  accounts  better  than  reading  Latin  and  studying  Greek 
and  grammar  ?  Good  heavens,  even  in  those  lowlands 
of  literature  you  live  with  great  authors  and  you  learn 
Greek  and  Latin. 

To  sum  up,  on  this  side  you  will  find  less  work  perhaps, 
anyhow  less  disagreeable  work,  and  infinitely  better  effects ; 
the  balance  being  thus  established,  the  conclusion  is  clear 
enough. 

Suckau  is  passing  his  Licentiate  ;  I  fear  very  much  for 
him,  not  on  account  of  his  Latin,  which  I  have  about  purged 
of  its  faults,  but  for  his  obscure  and  heavy  style. 

Why  should  you  despair,  you  who  write  in  a  manner  so 
original  and  so  penetrating,  whilst  at  the  same  time  so 
rich  and  so  sparkling  ? 

I  remember  having  seen  some  of  your  verses  in  the 
Rhetoric  class,  and  some  of  your  dissertations.  Save  a 
few  glaring  faults,  how  very  far  better  they  were  than 
the  platitudes  with  which  unfortunate  professors  are 
usually  sickened  !  I  remember  these  lines,  almost  worthy 
of  Lucretius  in  their  abrupt  force  : 

Quumque  hoc  obscurum  mare  et  arcturu  littore  nullo 
Mortem,  aliquis  nostrum  intravit  sociosque  reliquit. 

You  see,  there  are  two  degrees  in  Latin.  The  more 
advanced  scholars  seek  elegance,  conventional  turns  of 
phrases,  rare  words,  in  fact  all  that  which  is  the  flower  of 
competition  seasonings.  The  others — and  you  are  one  of 

72 


THE   ECOLE   NORMALE 

them — know  the  meaning  of  the  simple  and  usual  words, 
and,  thinking  simply,  can  write  with  sufficent  force  and 
correctness.  Keep  to  that,  and  you  will  be  able  to  write 
without  making  mistakes,  because  you  will  not  have  to 
unroll  long-winded  sentences  or  to  build  up  complicated 
constructions. 

I  am  competing  to-day  for  Latin  verse  and  Greek  exer- 
cise ;  it  is  the  hardest  day.  The  subjects  of  our  two  dis- 
sertations were  not  too  absurd  : 

"  1.  Quis  unus  sententiarum  in  historiis  esse  debeat. 

"  2.  Up  to  what  point  were  the  ancients  capable  of  writ- 
ing about  Universal  History  and  to  conceive  its  plan  ?  " 

To-morrow  and  the  day  after  come  the  viva  voce  exa- 
minations, lasting  one  hour  for  each. 

I  am  pleased  with  what  you  say  about  your  pamphlet. 
Good  luck  to  you  ;  you  will  make  your  (ttbut  in  the  world 
and  in  the  Ecole  at  the  same  time.  May  you  be  successful 
in  both  cases.  I  hope  to  be  admitted  to  the  licence,  but 
do  not  fail  to  wish  me  good  luck  ! 

Is  your  preparation  master  capable  of  passing  do  you 
think  ? 

To  the  same. 

July  21,  1849. 

My  POOR  FRIEND, — I  feel  for  your  sorrow I  with  all  my 
heart !  but  I  should  never  have  imagined  that  it  would 
be  so  great.  I  thought  you  loved  him  for  his  mind,  rejoicing 
in  the  sight  of  a  noble  nature  growing  and  developing 
through  you,  and  under  your  eyes.  What  is  to  be  done 
for  such  grief  ?  If  you  continue  I  shall  find  another 

1  PreVost-Paradol  had  lost  a  very  dear  friend, 
73 


LIFE   AND   LETTERS   OF   H.   TAINE 

Rousseau  in  you,  his  talent,  his  passions,  perhaps,  and 
especially  his  sorrows. 

Alas,  I  have  in  vain  done  all  I  could  to  place  you  in  the 
quiet  refuge  of  solitary  thought,  and  to  communicate  to 
you  the  calm  which  comes  from  a  regular  life,  firm  and 
patient  love  for  Science,  worship  for  Art  and  admiration 
for  Nature.  I  have  done  everything  to  bring  peace  to 
your  mind,  you  do  everything  to  trouble  it.  May  you  be 
less  unhappy  than  your  nature  seems  to  promise.  May 
you  at  least,  with  so  much  misfortune,  unfold  all  your 
talents  and  force  and  become  great  if  not  happy.  If  glory 
and  power  do  not  come  to  console  you,  as  they  have  done 
for  your  master,  I  pity  you.  Perhaps  also  these  long 
sorrowings,  these  anxieties,  these  tidal  passions  will  increase 
your  eloquence  as  they  did  his,  and  perhaps,  like  him,  you 
will  draw  greatness  from  suffering. 

I  was  like  you  when  I  was  seeking  for  a  friend  and  found 
you.  I  am  the  same  as  I  was  then,  and  I  experience 
the  same  feelings  as  you  do.  I  wanted  some  one  to 
complete  me,  to  have  the  qualities  I  lack  and  to  do  what 
I  am  incapable  of  doing.  Human  nature  is  so  miserably 
imperfect  that  an  assemblage  must  be  made,  of  chosen 
men,  in  order  to  form  from  their  aggregation  a  man  really 
worthy  of  esteem  and  presenting  the  image  of  perfection. 
Judge  of  my  sadness  in  seeing  you  thus  suffering  and 
consuming  yourself,  and  forgive  my  constant  claims,  my 
exhortations  to  courage  and  that  preaching  tone  so  often 
recurring  in  my  letters.  I  have  a  right  over  you  ;  it  is  my 
property  of  which  you  rob  me  by  letting  it  pine  away. 
There  is  in  you  something  which  is  mine,  something  which 
completes  my  nature,  and  which  is  as  essential  to  me  as 

74 


THE   ECOLE   NORMALE 

my  own  qualities.  What  a  joy  it  would  be  for  me  to  see 
this  something  grow  and  unfold  itself  as  it  Is  worthy  to  do  ! 
If  you  knew  how  rarely  a  witty  mind  and  a  noble  heart  are 
met  with  in  this  world  you  would  have  pity  upon  yourself, 
my  dear  fellow,  and  you  would  respect  the  sacred  treasures 
within  you.  I  have  lived  amongst  students  for  ten  years, 
I  have  found  but  you  ;  perhaps  there  may  be  one  young 
man  here  whose  mind  equals  yours  (as  for  his  soul,  I  know 
it  not),  that  is  all.  When  I  see  the  universal  stupidity  and 
impotence,  the  small  vanities  and  small  capacities  which 
swarm  in  the  world,  the  infinite  prejudice  and  ignorance, 
and  when  I  look  back  towards  the  two  or  three  whom  I 
truly  esteem,  I  feel  like  a  man  who  turns  away  with  disgust 
from  the  wretched  daubs  impudently  hung  on  the  walls  of 
the  Museum  and  who  hurries  with  loving  ardour  towards 
the  two  or  three  pictures  by  old  masters  which  the  new 
ones  have  not  yet  superseded. 

Do  write  like  that  often  and  tell  me  your  troubles.  Re- 
served as  you  usually  are,  it  will  be  a  relief  to  you.  To  me 
it  is  the  greatest  mark  of  friendship. 

Is  there  anything  else  which  could  rest  you  and  soothe 
your  soul  ?  I  hope  there  is  ;  Plato  and  the  country  should 
be  able  to  do  so.  If  it  is  so,  the  first  point  is  that  you 
should  wish  to  be  cured.  It  will  be  easy  to  become  a  man 
again  amidst  all  the  sorrow  and  suffering.  It  is  a  sad 
thing  to  say,  but  we  must  count  but  upon  ourselves  in  this 
world  ;  friends  fail  us,  disease  robs  us  of  them,  absence 
returns  them  to  us  altered,  politics  alienate1  them  from 
us.  Friendship  is  the  sweetest  thing  in  the  world  and 

1  And  politics  did  indeed  estrange  these  two  friends  in  later  lift*. 

75 


LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF  H.  TAINE 

our  only  refuge  in  the  uncertain  and  stormy  life  that  we 
lead,  but  we  must  be  able  to  live  alone  and  so  suffice  unto 
ourselves.  Man,  when  left  alone,  still  has  Study,  Art, 
Nature,  and  especially  the  Infinite,  which  alone  can  exhaust 
that  immense  power  of  loving  which  is  in  his  soul.  Philo- 
sophy is  indeed  a  great  teacher  of  love  ;  it  is  also  a  great 
teacher  of  resignation.  When  I  suffer  acutely,  I  consider 
the  general  movement  of  the  world,  and  I  forget  the  small 
unit  that  I  am  whilst  thinking  of  the  universe,  or  at  least 
remembering  that  there  is  an  end  to  it  all,  and  that  in 
thirty  or  forty  years'  time  we  shall  all  sleep.  Adieu. 
I  am  admitted  second  to  my  licence.  E.  de  Suckau  has 


To  the  same. 

August  24,  1849. 

MY  DEAR  PREVOST, — You  are  No.  38  in  the  qualifying 
exam.  There  are  thirty-eight  admissions  in  all. 

It  was  with  great  difficulty  that  you  obtained  this  poor 
place  ;  a  student  overheard  a  violent  dispute  which  took 
place  concerning  you,  M.  Vacherot  supporting  you  and 
all  the  others  attacking  you. 

M.  Vacherot  spoke  to  me  about  you  to-day ;  he  wishes 
you  to  come  and  see  him  to-morrow,  Saturday,  between 
12  and  1  o'clock.  He  wants  to  talk  about  your  past  and 
present  examinations.  Beware.  The  management  have 
heard  that  you  had  scribbled  off  all  your  papers  in  three 
hours  ;  it  was  thought  that  you  acted  thus  under  the 
conviction  that  the  examiners  were  bound  to  admit  you 
on  account  of  your  "  prix  d'honneur." '  This  seemed  to 

1  Prevost-Paradol  had  just  received  the  Philosophy  honours  prize 
at  the  Concours  General. 

76 


THE   ECOLE   NORMALE 

indicate  pride  and  arrogance,  and  told  against  you. 
There  is  the  pity,  my  poor  friend ;  we  have  to  consider  not 
only  what  is  right  in  itself,  but  the  judgment  of  others  on 
whom  we  depend. 

You  are  at  a  crisis  in  your  life.  The  use  you  make  of 
these  two  months  will  decide  your  future,  and  not  only 
your  profession,  but  your  instruction  and  political  and 
philosophical  value.  For,  unless  you  come  into  this 
cloister,  you  will  not  study  seriously.  If  you  are  a  man 
you  will  understand  that  he  who  wishes  for  an  end  must 
accept  the  means,  and  that  there  is  no  better  end  for  a 
man,  no  greater  good,  than  positive  knowledge  and  personal 
tranquillity.  I  swear  it  on  my  conscience,  you  must  now 
choose  between  becoming  a  phrase-monger,  a  sophist, 
a  penny-a-liner,  an  anxious,  worried  wretch,  or  an  orator, 
a  philosopher,  a  serious  and  cultured  man,  worthy  of 
leading  other  men. 

That  is  why  you  must,  every  day  during  these  two 
months,  write  Greek  and  Latin  translations  and  learn  tables 
of  dates  and  events.  All  this  concerns  you  alone,  and  only 
appeals  to  your  interests.  But  think  also  of  what  your 
friend  begs  of  you,  and  of  what  you  owe  to  your  father. 
If  you  have  not  the  courage  to  do  what  is  best  for  your 
own  sake,  at  least  be  generous  enough  to  think  of  your 
family,  and  to  remember  that  your  good  is  as  precious  to 
me  as  my  own. 

Good-bye.  I  shall  miss  the  post  if  I  write  more.  To- 
morrow, when  you  come,  we  will  have  a  talk. 


77 


LIFE   AND   LETTERS   OF   H.    TAINE 

To  the  same. 

September  11,  1849. 

MY  DEAR  FRIEND, — It  is  raining  to-day  ;  shall  I  take 
up  our  conversation  where  we  left  it  twelve  days  ago  ? 

I  consider  that  you  have  a  fallacious  opinion  on  the 
principle  of  the  rights  of  private  individuals  and  of  the 
State.  You  believe,  like  Rousseau,  that  the  rights  of 
individuals  are  mere  conventions  and  that  no  such  rights 
exist  beyond  those  established  by  the  will  of  the  people. 

Both  you  and  M.  Jacques  are  tyrants,  my  dear  fellow. 
Your  maxim  justifies  the  tyranny  of  the  mob,  his  that  of 
a  minority.  You  destroy  the  individual  and  he  destroys 
the  State. 

In  my  view,  every  human  act  in  general  is  a  holy  and 
sacred  thing,  that  is  to  say  that  for  no  motive  whatever 
must  it  be  destroyed,  or,  in  other  words,  prevented  from 
taking  place.  The  general  rule  of  Morality  is  to  do  the 
greater  good  always,  and  to  sacrifice  the  small  to  the  great. 
But  human  acts  are  worth  so  much  that  they  are  absolutely 
inviolable,  and  may  not  legitimately  be  prevented  or 
destroyed.  This  inviolability  of  human  acts  is  the  principle 
of  what  we  call  Right. 

Do  you  admit  this  opinion,  which  is  naught  else  than 
the  affirmation  of  the  inviolability  of  human  liberty  ?  If 
you  reject  it,  I  will  send  you  a  demonstration  of  it  another 
time.  To-day  I  will  content  myself  with  stating  it. 

It  follows  that  the  liberty  of  speaking,  of  writing,  of 
printing,  is  a  right ;  it  follows  that  the  life  and  property 
of  each  individual  are  inviolable  and  that  he  has  a  right 
to  preserve  them.  Those  rights,  as  you  see,  do  not  issue 

78 


THE   ECOLE   NORMALE 

from  a  convention  between  the  members  of  the  State  (since 
we  have  established  them  without  supposing  the  existence 
of  the  State)  but  simply  from  human  nature,  considered 
in  itself. 

Now,  where  do  the  State's  rights  come  from  ?  The 
State,  I  think  you  will  readily  grant,  is  a  being,  a  real  and 
living  individual,  and  not  an  abstraction.  If  we  consider 
in  each  individual  what  he  has  in  common  with  all  the 
others — I  mean  citizenship,  affection  for  his  country,  that 
part  of  his  existence  which  is  absorbed  in  the  common 
existence — we  shall  perceive  one  great  being,  composed  of 
all  the  individuals  of  the  State  considered  under  a  common 
aspect,  and  consequently  undiscernable  as  individuals 
and  forming  an  absolute  unit. 

It  follows  that,  in  a  society,  there  is  something  beside 
the  individuals,  there  is  the  State  itself,  and  the  existence 
of  that  new  being  does  not  destroy  the  real  and  independent 
existence  of  the  individuals. 

This  being  is  human,  since  its  elements  are  human.  It 
is  therefore  in  a  condition  exactly  parallel  to  that  of  the 
individuals  ;  its  acts  are  equally  inviolable,  it  possesses 
rights. 

Those  rights  consist,  like  those  of  private  individuals, 
in  the  legitimate  power  of  preserving  its  existence  and  its 
property,  which  is  the  extension  of  its  existence,  as  is  the 
case  with  individuals.  In  other  words,  inasmuch  as  it  is 
expressed  by  a  Government,  it  has  the  right  of  preserving 
itself  against  enemies  from  without  or  from  within,  to 
prevent  what  might  harm  it,  etc.  ...  to  raise  taxes  (since 
it  is  a  co-owner  with  each  individual),  etc.  .  :  . 

You  see  that  the  rights  of  the  State,  like  those  of  private 

79 


LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF  H.  TAINE 

persons,  flow  from  the  very  nature  of  things,  and  that  the 
former  are  not  the  mainspring  of  the  others.  Rights  are 
ever  the  outcome  of  Existence  ;  the  State,  as  a  distinct 
being,  has  its  distinct  rights  like  those  of  private  persons. 
They  are  two  adjacent  but  distinct  domains. 

For  instance,  the  majority  has  the  right  of  taking  the 
form  of  Government  that  it  chooses,  and  this  is  because 
this  act  is  an  act  of  the  State  as  such,  i.e.  of  the  mass  of 
the  nation  considered  as  a  unit.  I,  as  an  individual,  who 
know  of  a  better  form,  have  nothing  to  say  ;  I  have  no 
right  to  force  the  State,  to  impose  upon  it  a  better  govern- 
ment, any  more  than  I  have  a  right  to  coerce  my  private 
neighbour  in  order  to  teach  him  how  to  manage  his  farm. 
The  State  is  free.  I  have  withal  a  right  to  preserve  my 
property  (apart  from  the  question  of  taxes).  The  State 
may  not  confiscate  it,  it  would  be  a  violation  of  my  liberty. 
As  the  inviolability  of  my  property  is  constituted  by  its 
nature  and  not  by  delegation  from  the  State,  the  State 
cannot  take  it  away  from  me.  I  am  free.  My  acts  are 
inviolable  in  the  same  right  as  those  of  the  State. 

I  will  now  sum  up  in  two  words  :  the  human  act,  the 
human  existence,  is  inviolable.  Now,  the  State  and  the 
individual  each  are  a  human  existence.  Therefore  both 
the  act  or  existence  of  the  State,  and  that  of  the  individual 
are  inviolable.  Hence  it  follows  that  they  each  have  inde- 
pendent rights,  the  existence  of  each  being  a  distinct  thing. 

I  will  not  detail  to  you  the  advantages  of  this  theory  ; 
it  consecrates  the  freedom  of  the  State  and  of  individuals  ; 
it  preserves  us  from  the  excesses  of  Communism  towards 
which  you  lean,  and  from  the  absurdities  of  individualism 
into  which  you  say  that  M.  Jacques  has  fallen. 

80 


THE   fiCOLE   NORMALS 

Answer  the  above  if  you  can  and  if  you  will.  Tell  me  also 
what  you  are  doing,  if  you  are  still  suffering  from  that 
anxiety  in  which  I  found  you,  if  you  are  studying  Greek 
and  History  and  getting  on  with  them,  and  if,  failing  the 
Ecole,  you  have  some  perch  In  view  where  you  can  rest 
your  wings. 

As  for  me,  I  am  at  Vouziers  (Ardennes).  I  ramble  about 
in  the  country  all  the  afternoon ;  in  the  morning  I  read 
Greek  and  German,  I  strum  on  the  piano,  sleep  much  and 
think  little. 

Dear  friend,  the  delights  of  Society  and  those  pleasures 
which  seem  to  satisfy  most  other  men  bore  me  more  every 
day.  I  hardly  believe  in  pleasure  at  all  now ;  I  still  under- 
stand a  certain  thrill  of  the  nerves,  but  that  also  is  losing 
my  esteem  day  by  day.  There  is  but  one  good  thing  in 
this  world,  which  is  rest  for  the  soul  and  activity  of  the 
mind.  That  is  why  I  write  to  you  about  politics  and 
philosophy.  Would  it  be  worth  while  to  recount  all  sorts 
of  little  things  which  happen  to  me  and  which  make  up 
the  web  of  my  every-day  life  ?  I  myself  even  hardly  find 
any  pleasure  in  studying  the  natural  history  of  my  soul. 
Speaking  truthfully,  nothing  is  good  but  the  knowledge 
of  absolute  truths.  0,  that  I  may  discover  some,  I  who 
mean  to  be  a  philosopher  !  May  you,  who  are  a  politician, 
apply  them.  The  rest  is  a  farce. 

To  the  same. 

September  25,  1849. 

You  are  a  wretch,  a  lazy  wretch,  and  fit  for  the  gallows. 
What !  as  soon  as  I  arrive  in  the  Ardennes,  I  make  you 
the  object  of  my  first  care,  my  first  love,  and  I  wait  for 

81  o 


LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF  H.  TAINE 

three  weeks  for  an  answer  ?  Am  I  then  to  woo  you  like 
a  young  beauty,  and  invite  you  three  or  four  times  before 
obtaining  a  word  in  answer  ? 

I  have  some  suspicion  of  the  cause  of  your  laziness  : 
obliviosus  amor,  as  Horace  has  it.  Your  new  friend  is 
making  you  forget  your  old  ones  ;  your  long  walks  in  the 
Tuileries,  your  mutual  confidences,  drive  the  unfortunate 
exile  from  your  mind.  I  saw  that  as  I  came  down  your 
staircase ;  I  am  not  like  him  e{/£eovo?,  evirpoa wrrot,  ei//tz/7?/u9, 
etc.,  and  all  the  tv  you  like.  But,  my  dear  friend,  remember 
that  Socrates,  who,  like  you,  was  fond  of  handsome  youths, 
did  not  disdain  the  more  or  less  ill-favoured  wretches  who 
attached  themselves  to  him  and  sought  his  conversation. 
I  am  now  seeking  and  soliciting  yours.  Will  you  grant 
it  to  me  ?  Do  not  prepare  yourself  in  advance  too  thor- 
oughly for  the  part  of  Cabinet  Minister  to  which  Politics 
are  to  lead  you  ;  grant  audiences  to  those  that  seek  them  ; 
if  not,  Proud'hon  take  thee !  go  to  the  devil ! 

It  is  true  that  your  silence  is  partly  my  fault ;  I  have 
done  what  you  reproach  Planat  with  doing,  sending  you 
a  letter  of  philosophical  polemics  with  a  request  for  an 
answer.  I  must  seem  to  you  a  sort  of  fighting-cock,  ever 
looking  about  him  and  calling  for  adversaries.  Forgive 
my  mania,  my  dear  fellow,  as  well  as  my  last  denunciation 
on  the  vanity  of  human  occupations  ;  I  know  well  that 
you  are  slow  to  ransack  your  mind  and  that  you  prefer 
to  leave  your  gold  mines  untouched  rather  than  draw 
supplies  from  them  ;  but  I  did  hope  that  during  two 
weeks'  holidays  you  might  find  a  few  hours  of  thought 
and  leisure,  and  that  at  least  the  boredom  and  listlessness 
of  holiday-time  would  incline  you  to  examine  the  question. 

82 


THE   ECOLE   NORMALE 

To  tell  the  truth,  I  still  have  hopes,  and  you  would  give 
me  great  pleasure  if  you  told  me  what  you  think  of  the 
views  which  I  have  sent  you.  .  .  . 

Do  you  not  blush  to  remain  thus  indifferent  and  to  keep 
from  me  what  is  taking  place  in  your  mind  ?  Upon  my 
word,  I  sometimes  think  that  you  should  have  been  born 
a  theatrical  manager  or  a  Sultan  ;  in  this  last  post  especi- 
ally you  would  have  done  wonders  !  It  is  an  easy  and 
at  the  same  time  virile  occupation.  Remember  that  your 
Lord  Byron  says,  speaking  of  the  education  preparatory 
to  this  function,  that  at  the  age  of  twenty  the  young  Sul- 
tans are  taken  to  the  throne  or  to  the  gallows,  being  in 
consequence  : 

"  Exactly  fit  for  both." 

That  is  my  wish  for  you,  my  brother. 

Seriously,  do  answer  me,  and  tell  me  about  your  studies  : 
your  Greek,  your  History,  your  plans  for  the  future  if  you 
do  not  pass  for  the  Ecole. 

How  can  a  friendship  be  kept  up  if  one  does  not  know 
what  is  passing  in  one's  friend's  mind  ?  In  two  months' 
time  the  estrangement  comes.  Courage  !  Write  soon  and 
tell  me  everything. 

Farewell. 

To  the  same. 

October  1,  1849. 

MY  DEAR  FELLOW, — Your  letter  sets  me  thinking  about 
your  relations  with  Planat  and  about  mine  with  you.  Let 
us  talk  of  Planat  first. 

Be  kind  to  him.  He  has  an  artistic  and  systematic 
nature  ;  when  he  has  an  idea,  he  drives  it  in,  meaning  for 

83 


LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF  H.  TAINE 

the  best,  and  unconscious  that  he  is  shocking  others.  For 
instance,  this  time,  he  had  conceived  a  certain  ideal  of 
friendship,  and,  seeing  that  you  did  not  respond  to  it  and 
that  you  offered  him  a  medium  sort  of  friendship,  he  thought 
that  you  offered  him  nothing  at  all.  Everything  or  no- 
thing, that  is  his  motto  ;  further,  as  he  understands  no 
other  sort  of  conversation  but  serious,  active  talk,  he 
could  not  bear  your  laziness  and  thought  that  you  did  not 
want  to  talk  to  him.  It  all  comes  from  an  excessive  and 
absolute  nature.  Forgive  him,  for  he  is  made  that  way, 
and  cannot  help  himself.  Really,  you  know,  he  is  fond 
of  you  and  esteems  you  highly.  He  has  spoken  to  me 
of  this  affair,  and,  if  his  letter  is  irritating,  it  is  quite  in- 
voluntarily so.  Do  not  answer  harshly  ;  when  the  heat 
of  his  excitement  has  cooled  down  he  will  understand  that 
we  cannot  model  our  friends  after  our  fancy,  and  that  we 
must  accept  them  as  they  are.  He  will  have  me  to  philo- 
sophize with  and  you  to  converse  with  ;  I  am  quite  sure 
that  he  is  much  attached  to  you. 

Now  for  us  two.  I  must  often  have  deserved  the  re- 
proaches you  address  to  him.  I,  too,  hammer  away  at 
my  ideas  ;  do  you  remember  my  philosophical  preaching 
of  last  winter  ? 

Poor  old  fellow,  you  were  very  patient  with  me  !  What 
would  you  have  ?  Man  is  so  made  that  he  attempts  to 
impose  on  every  one  his  own  way  of  thinking  and  mode 
of  living.  Besides,  I  have  a  particular  excuse,  which  is  the 
absolute  persuasion  in  which  I  was  then  and  am  still,  that 
my  ideas  are  true,  and  that  my  system  of  conduct  is  the 
only  one  a  man  should  follow.  ...  I  was  like  an  ardent 
neophyte,  a  sort  of  Polyeucte,  urging  you  to  conversion 

84 


THE   ECOLE   NORMALE 

and  martyrdom,  whilst  you,  my  dear  Pauline,  did  your 
part  very  well.  Our  letters  were  a  sort  of  dialogue, 
similar  to  this  : — 

lPauline  :    Tu  preferes  le  monde  a  1'amour  de  Pauline. 

Polyeucte  :    Vous  preferez  le  monde  a  la  bonte  divine- 

Pauline  :   Imaginations  ! 

Polyeucte  :  Celestes  verites  ! 

Pauline  :    Etrange  aveuglement ! 

Polyeucte  :  Immortelles  clartes  ! 

Briefly,  I  now  think  that  Pauline  was  most  kind  and 
forbearing  in  not  boxing  my  ears.  So  do  not  box  Planat's. 

I  am  calmer  now,  and,  while  preserving  my  convictions, 
I  see  that  we  must  take  people  as  they  are.  I  should  like 
to  see  you  philosophizing,  clearing  your  ideas,  working 
your  brain  actively  ;  I  have  done  all  I  could  to  induce  you 
to  do  so  ;  you  would  be  the  happier  for  it,  and  I  also. 
I  have  not  been  successful,  so  much  the  worse  ;  your 
nature  is  evidently  not  made  that  way  ;  as  a  circle  has 
not  the  properties  of  a  square,  your  nature,  metaphysically 
speaking,  has  but  those  properties  which  are  contained 
in  its  essence  or  definition. 

I  must  resign  myself ;  you  will  be  an  orator,  and  not  a 
philosopher.  The  properties  contained  in  your  essence 
are  still  very  good,  very  beautiful,  the  best  and  most 
beautiful  I  know,  and  I  shall  continue  to  love  them  if  you 
will  let  me.  I  was  like  the  child  who  was  asked  whether 
he  would  have  cake  or  jam,  and  who  wanted  cake  and 
jam,  crying  because  he  could  only  have  one  or  the  other. 
Now  that  I  am  grown  up,  I  can  eat  my  cake  without  jam, 
and  I  advise  you,  my  dear  friend,  to  do  the  same  concern- 

1  Polyeucte  (Gorneille),  Act  IV.  sc.  iii. 
85 


LIFE   AND   LETTERS   OF   H.    TAINE 

ing  me.  Therefore  :  1,  You  have  forgiven  my  letter  (the 
one  before  last),  my  unfortunate  efforts  to  set  you 
thinking  on  politics  and  to  drag  you  into  them  by  the  ears 
against  your  will ;  2,  you  will  forgive  in  the  future  all 
similar  blunders  that  I  may  commit,  for  the  flesh  is  weak, 
and  from  my  essence,  or  philosophical  concept,  as  from  a 
vessel  which  is  too  full,  scientific  whiffs  might  escape, 
from  time  to  time,  which  would  be  disagreeable  to  such  a 
poetical  and  oratorical  nose  as  yours. 

Moreover,  in  similar  occurrences,  you  will  recall  me  to 
reason,  as  one  would  rally  a  student  who  had  failed  in  a 
black-board  demonstration  through  having  omitted  to  con- 
sider one  of  the  data  of  the  question.  The  datum  in  this 
case  is  your  nature.  Such  is  the  treaty  which  I  propose  to 
you  and  which  I  advise  you  to  make  with  Planat.  It 
would  be  a  fine  thing  if  a  circle  became  angry  with  the 
square  because  all  the  parts  of  the  square  are  not  at  an 
equal  distance  from  the  centre,  and  if  the  square  were  to 
excommunicate  the  triangle  because  the  triangle  has  not 
four  sides  !  We  three  represent  the  circle,  the  square 
and  the  triangle.  Let  us  live  in  concord,  and,  in  virtue 
of  the  very  difference  of  our  natures,  new  properties  will 
be  born  of  our  union. 

It  is  of  course  understood  that,  if  ever,  finding  that  your 
mode  of  living  made  you  unhappy,  and  seeing  me  happy 
in  mine,  you  inclined  towards  my  views,  I  reserve  to  myself 
the  right  of  encouraging  you,  and  vice  versa. 

In  faith  of  which  I  here  sign  myself 

H.  TAINE. 

If  you  were  a  Christian,  my  poor  friend,  I  would  send 

86 


THE  ECOLE   NORMALE 

you  a  chapter  of  the  Imitation  to  console  you  for  M.  Bel- 
laguet l  and  your  own  fears.  If  you  were  a  philosopher 
I  would  send  you  the  fifth  part  of  the  Ethics  ;  as  you 
are  a  poet,  a  Platonician,  a  Greek,  I  send  you  a  little  piece 
by  Anacreon  : — 

THE  PASSER-BY.— Whence  com'st  them,  sweet  Dove  ?     Why  all 

those  perfumes 
Exhaled  and  distill' d  from  thy  wings  in  thy  flight  thro'  the  air  ? 

To  what  place,  with  what  object  thy  course  ? 

THE  DOVE. — 'Tis  Anacreon  who  to  Bathyllus  hath  sent  me 
His  love,  and  the  master  and  king  of  all  hearts. 
For  a  short  song  of  praise  fair  Venus  hath  sold  me. 
As  thou  seest,  I  now  serve  Anacreon,  bearing  his  letters. 

He  says  he  will  soon  set  me  free ; 
Yet  were  he  to  free  me,  I  still  would  abide 

As  his  slave  at  his  side, 

For  why  should  I  fly  over  mountains  and  fields, 
With  but  trees  for  my  rest  and  wild  berries  my  food  ? 

I  now  feed  on  bread  from  Anacreon's  hand, 
He  gives  me  the  wine  he  has  tasted, 
And  when  I  have  sipped  it,  I  hover  around  him, 
From  the  heat  of  the  sun  with  my  wings  I  protect  him. 
When  I  sleep  it  is  on  his  own  lyre  I  rest. 

You  know  all ;  now  away. 
Man,  a  chatterer,  e'en  as  the  crow,  hast  thou  made  me. 


1  M.  Bellaguet  was  the  head  of  a  well  known  boarding-school. 
Provost- Paradol  boarded  with  him,  and  attended  the  classes  of 
the  Bourbon  lycee. 


87 


CHAPTER  II 

Second  Year — Life  in  the  Ecole — the  Reaction 
of  1850 — Private  Meetings — Philosophy, 
— Dogmatism — Preparation  for  the 
Philosophy  Agregation1 — Sketch  of  a 
History  of  Philosophy 

No  letters  have  been  preserved  that  were  written  by  M. 
Taine  between  October  1849  and  October  1850.  His  mother 
and  sisters  were  again  in  Paris.  Planat,  one  of  his  inti- 
mate friends,  did  not  keep  his  letters.  As  for  Prevost- 
Paradol,  he  was  received  into  the  Ecole  Normale,  and  his 
friend's  ardent  wish  was  fulfilled^  Correspondence  was 
now  replaced  by  daily  conversations,  and  a  happy,  inti- 
mate intercourse,  to  which  Edouard  de  Suckau  was  soon 
admitted  ;  a  delicate,  well-bred  man,  enamoured,  like  his 
two  friends,  of  general  ideas  and  exalted  philosophical 
speculations,  he  entered  into  a  close  friendship  with 
Hippolyte  Taine,  broken  only  by  his  death  in  1867. 

1  Agregation.  An  annual  competition  for  recruiting  Professors 
for  Faculties  and  secondary  schools  or  lycees.  A  candidate  for  the 
agregation  dea  lyctes  must  have  passed  his  licence  examination  and  a 
candidate  for  the  Superior  Agregation  must  be  in  possession  of  his 
doctorate. 


THE    ECOLE    NORMALE 

Small  groups  soon  formed  amongst  this  crowd  of  studious 
youths,  gradually  brought  together  by  similarities  of 
tastes  and  talents.  Hippolyte  Taine,  who  was  a  passable 
pianist  and  passionately  fond  of  music,  had  met  among  his 
companions  a  violinist,  M.  Rieder,  and  a  violoncellist, 
M.  Quinot,  with  whom  he  played  Mozart's  and  Beethoven's 
trios.  He  found  another  sort  of  relaxation  in  the  spark- 
ling conversation  of  Edmond  About ;  the  future  novelist's 
inexhaustible  wit  and  brilliant  flights  of  fancy  contrasted 
with  his  own  purely  speculative  absorption,  and  he  bore 
with  the  best  grace  in  the  world  the  humorous  teasing  he 
was  subjected  to,  both  from  About  and  from  Francisque 
Sarcey. 

He  also  sought  the  society  of  some  of  his  graver  fellow- 
students,  such  as  G.  A.  Heinrich,  Barnave  (the  future  abbe), 
and  Cambier  (who  became  a  missionary  and  died  in  China 
in  1866) ;  he  discussed  with  them  subjects  of  theology  and 
ecclesiastical  history,  which  at  that  time  had  a  large  share 
in  his  studies  and  writings.  He  also  saw  much  of  the 
students  in  the  Science  section,  and  had  long  talks  with 
the  young  physician  of  the  Ecole,  Dr.  Noel  Gueneau  de 
Mussy,  being  already  attracted  towards  the  physiological 
researches  which  afterwards  became  the  basis  of  his 
psychology.  Every  subject,  whether  literary,  philoso- 
phical, religious,  scientific,  historical,  political  or  social, 
was  tackled  in  turn  by  those  independent  young  minds. 
The  Ecole  Normale  seemed  a  privilegedLplaceA^_jiQlt  of 
intellectual  oasis  which  the  reaction  of  1850  could  not 
reach.  However,  a  threatening  peal  was  sounded  towards 
the~~end  of  the  school  year.  M.  P.  F.  Dubois,  founder  of 
the  Globe,  who  was  suspected  of  liberalism,  was  superseded 

89 


LIFE   AND   LETTERS   OF   H.    TAINE 

in  the  management  of  the  Ecole  by  M.  Michelle,  rector  of 
Besan9on,  who  was  not  a  former  Normalien  and  knew  not 
the  traditions  of  the  house.  Shortly  before  this,  M.  Emile 
Deschanel,  who  was  M.  Havet's  assistant  in  the  teaching 
of  Greek  language  and  literature,  had  been  called  before 
the  Superior  Council  of  Public  Instruction  a  propos  of  an 
article  published  in  the  Liberte  de  Penser  and  entitled 
"  Catholicism  and  Socialism  "  ;  he  was  suspended  from 
his  functions,  and  M.  Havet  had  to  dispense  with  his 
services.  A  veiled  hostility  was  also  evinced  against 
M.  Vacherot,  the  eminent  Director  of  Studies,  and  some 
of  the  most  distinguished  professors,  such  as  M.  Jules 
Simon,  in  spite  of  the  reserve  which  they  brought  into 
their  teaching,  and  the  caution  which  they  constantly 
recommended  to  their  pupils.  M.  Jules  Simon  wrote  in 
1851,  concerning  H.  Taine  :  "  I  found  him  following  a 
current  of  opinion  of  which  I  cannot  approve.  ...  I  had 
to  struggle  with  him  during  several  months ;  at  last  I 
have  persuaded  him  to  show  the  greatest  docility  on 
every  hand."  Nevertheless,  these  professors  were  held 
in  suspicion  and  their  names  inscribed  on  lists  for  future 
proscription. 

Hippolyte  Taine,  wrapped  up  in  his  work  and  in  his 
beloved  Philosophy,  continued  his  studies  without  troub- 
ling himself  about  the  storm  which  was  about  to  break 
over  the  University,  and  of  which  he  was  himself  to  be  a 
victim.  In  1849-1850  he  was  studying  the  History  of 
Philosophy  as  far  as  Leibnitz  with  M.  Saisset,  the  History 
of  the  Middle  Ages  with  M.  C.  A.  D.  Filon,  French  Litera- 
ture with  M.  Gerasez,  Latin  Literature  with  M.  Berger, 
Greek  Literature  with  MM.  Deschanel  and  Havet.  Be- 

90 


THE    ECOLE    NORMALE 

sides  his  notes  on  those  classes,  M.  Taine  preserved  a  great 
many  of  his  private  writings  of  that  time.  Already 
during  the  holidays,  he  had  written  some  notes,  dated 
August  1849  (see  Appendix  I.),  which  are  an  epitome  of 
his  philosophical  work  during  his  first  year  at  the  Ecole ; 
others,  forming  a  sequel,  are  dated  November  1849,  and 
March  1850.  These  notes,  which  bear  the  following  titles  : 
Of  the  Being,  Of  Thought,  Ideas  on  Science,  and  On  the 
Absolute,  mark  an  interesting  step  in  the  evolution  of  his 
mind. 

They  are  pure  abstraction,  and  it  is  obvious  that  he 
was  then  still  imbued  with  Descartes'  and  Spinoza's  doc- 
trines ;  but  the  effort  to  extract  a  personal  doctrine  and 
to  inaugurate  new  methods  is  apparent. 

For  instance,  he  writes  in  November  1849,  referring  to 
the  work  done  in  the  summer  :  "  This  is  pure  idealism  ; 
I  had  not  yet  made  a  distinction  between  perceiving  and 
conceiving."  Another  paper,  written  a  little  later,  but 
also  dated  1849-1850,  and  entitled  Philosophy,  Dogmatism, 
contains  at  the  beginning  the  following  remark  :  "I  per- 
ceive that  I  shall  have  to  re-cast  the  essay  in  which  I 
summed  up  all  my  last  year's  work  ;  it  is  like  the  task 
of  Penelope.  Every  day  I  have  to  climb  on  my  own 
shoulders  !  !  " 

This  second  work  opens  thus  :  "  Everything  depends 
on  Method ;  I  am  therefore  coming  back  to  it.  By 
M  'hod,  I  mean  the  means  of  having  true  perceptions; 
in  other  words,  the  necessary  conditions  for  having  a 
succession  of  true  perceptions.  By  the  truth  of  a  percep- 
tion. T  iii''  in  its  suitability  to  its  subject ;  T  mean  that  It 
should  be  subjectively  what  the  object  is  in  itself. 

91 


LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF  H.  TAINE 

"  Every  act  of  the  intelligence,  every  knowledge,  is  a 
perception.  Memory  is  the  perception  of  a  present  modi- 
fication which  implies  anterior  perception.  Conception 
is  the  perception  of  a  similar  modification  which  does  not 
relate  to  a  past  perception."  .  .  .And  further  :  "  Man 
(the  subject  and  author  of  Science),  is  movable,  but  the 
object  of  Science  will  be  immovable.  It  is  the  Ego  which 
makes  Science,  but  it  builds  on  the  Absolute.  .  .  . 

"  Is  there  not  a  contradiction  in  all  this,  and,  if  so,  how 
can  it  be  solved  ?  I  have  been  trying  in  vain  since  last 
night.  .  .  . 

"  We  must  take  care  not  to  fall  into  the  defects  with 
which  we  reproach  the  experimental  method.  Science, 
we  say,  must  only  contain  assertions  which  are  eternally 
true.  The  two  fundamental  conditions  are  to  perceive 
everything  under  the  character  of  necessity  and  to  exclude 
all  possibility  of  error.  .  .  . 

"  Before  reading  Aristotle's  Analytics  I  want  to  clear 
my  ideas  on  the  subject  a  little.  .  .  . 

"  Theory  of  Science. — Aristotle  begins  by  stating  the 
conclusion,  and  then  seeks  for  the  minor  and  the  major 
terms.  We  first  state  the  notions,  and  then  look  for  the 
conclusion. 

"...  Prove  that  the  nature  of  the  Being  (as  an  essence) 
implies  manifestation  .  .  . 

"  But  how  do  you  unite  the  express  manifestation  to 
the  non-express  manifestation  ?  Should  not  a  medium 
term  be  inserted  between  those  two  forms  of  manifesta- 
tion? And  will  not  a  Cause  be  necessary  to  make  the 
manifestation  pass  from  the  state  of  Power  to  the  state 

of  Act  ? 

92 


THE    ECOLE    NORMALE 

"  This  question  is  overwhelming,  but  I  do  not  despair 
of  solving  it." 

Thus,  in  this  work,  through  his  doubts  and  the  sudden 
turns  of  his  thought,  do  we  see  the  Idea  freed  by  degrees 
under  a  steady  effort.  After  a  long  discussion  on  the 
Absolute,  he  exclaims  :  "  Here  is  an  immense  step  al- 
ready ;  the  demonstration  remains  to  be  effected."  And 
further  :  "If  the  nature  of  the  Being  as  a  Being  in  any 
one  of  its  parts  is  manifested,  the  whole  Being  is  mani- 
fested. For,  if  the  essence  is  manifested,  it  is  the  result 
of  the  nature  of  the  Absolute,  which  is  at  the  same  time 
essence  and  manifestation,  and  prevents  the  one  from 
going  without  the  other.  And  thus  becomes  known  the 
nature  of  the  Absolute,  which  is  the  union  of  the  two. 

"  Now  the  problem  is  solved. 

"  I  only  want  now  to  account  to  myself  for  that  induc- 
tive process,  and  to  know  whether  it  is  but  a  form  of  de- 
duction. 

"  I  therefore  return  to  Descartes'  point  of  view  and 
method  of  meditation.  I  have  by  degrees  perfected  and 
completed  my  idea  of  the  Absolute,  and  I  see  that  in 
order  to  legitimize  and  verify  it  I  must  go  back  to  Per- 
ception and  to  the  reasoning  which  gives  it  to  me. 

"  I  must  prove  that  Induction  does  not  only  give  me 
Schelling's  Infinite-finite,  or  Hegel's  Idea  in  Notion,  or 
Aristotle's  Idea  in  Act ;  but  the  (absolute)  Being  (abso- 
lutely) manifested. 

"  I  will  define  all  my  terms  in  order  to  progress  more 
surely.  To  define  a  Being  is  to  name  the  term  immedi- 
ately anterior,  and  to  circumscribe  within  that  term  the 

93 


LIFE   AND   LETTERS   OF   H.    TAINE 

quantity  of  reality  which  is  that  of  the  Being  in  question 
.  .  .  etc. 

"  Given  two  natures,  both  simple  as  such,  and  having 
such  a  relation  to  each  other  that  B,  the  second  one, 
can  only  be  conceived  by  the  first  A,  but  that  A  can  be 
conceived  without  B. 

"  It  is  not  only  because  A  and  B  are  in  relation  that 
B  is  plural,  it  is  because  A  is  anterior  and  necessarily 
in  the  concept  of  B. 

"  I  have  it  now ;  but  curse  the  problem,  it  is  so  diffi- 
cult !  !  " 

The  preparation  for  the  Agregation  begins  at  the  Ecole 
with  the  second  year.  Hippolyte  Taine  had  chosen  philo- 
sophy for  his  subject,  and  plunged  into  it  with  ardour. 
Most  of  his  analyses  of  different  authors  have  been  kept, 
almost  always  accompanied  by  expressions  of  personal 
opinion  ;  there  is  no  space  here  for  more  than  an  enumer- 
ation of  the  various  subjects  : — 

The  minor  Greek  philosophers,  the  philosophers  of 
Alexandria,  Plato,  Aristotle's  Physics,  Treatise  on  the 
Soul,  Early  Analytics,  Metaphysics,  a  comparison  between 
the  Logic  at  Port  Royal  and  that  of  Aristotle  ;  analyses 
of  Descartes,  Malebranche,  Schelling,  one  of  M.  Haureau's 
Scholastic  Philosophy  which  concludes  thus :  "  M. 
Haureau's  book  only  treats  of  one  question,  that  of  the 
Realists  and  the  Nominalists.  In  order  to  see  the  move- 
ment of  Ideas,  theology  should  have  been  studied,  and  the 
action  of  Philosophy  on  Theology.  .  .  .  Scholastic  Philo- 
sophy is  not ;  dogma  smothers  and  strains  it.  ... 

"  Christianity  has  weighed  down  most  of  the  Schools 
and  made  them  inconsistent :  1,  Abelard's  School ; 

94 


THE    fiCOLE    NORMALE 

2,  St.  Thomas,  Duns  Scotus,  Occam  ;  3,  Cartesian  School ; 
4,  Eighteenth  Century — by  reaction ;  5,  Our  French 
School.  The  real  Descartes  is  Spinoza.  The  real  Sensual- 
ists are  the  Positivists." 

A  certain  number  of  dissertations  and  analyses  have 
also  been  found  on  the  Pythagorean  School,  Plato,  Par- 
menides,  Lucretius,  Xenophon,  and  Aristotle  ;  on  Horace's 
Philosophy,  and  on  the  proofs  of  the  existence  of  God  in 
Descartes'  Meditations.  He  gave  addresses  on  the  Pyr- 
rhonian  School  and  on  Bacon's  philosophy.1 

He  completed  his  studies  on  Philosophy  properly  so 
called  by  researches  on  the  Christian  dogma.  He  read 
the  New  Testament  in  the  Greek  text ;  he  analyzed  the 
Fathers  of  the  Greek  Church,  the  Sixteenth  Book  of  the 
Theodosian  Code,  Sozomenes,  Tertullian,  Minutius,  Felix, 
St.  Cyprian,  St.  Augustine,  Procopius,  the  three  first 
volumes  of  Fleury's  Ecclesiastical  History,  Gieseler  etc.  .  .  . 

Though  the  regulations  dispensed  with  his  attending 
the  History  and  Literature  classes,  he  submitted  to  the 
professors  dissertations  on  the  Council  of  Trent,  on  the 
historical  meaning  of  the  Divina  Commedia,  a  comparison 
between  Homer  and  Virgil ;  he  wrote  notes  on  Ampere's 
Introduction  to  the  History  of  French  Literature  in  the 
Middle  Ages,  and  filled  his  writings  on  history  and  litera- 
ture with  an  abundance  of  quotations  which  bear  witness 
to  the  extent  of  his  reading. 

1  "  M.  Tainc  shewed  in  those  two  expositions  a  quite  remarkable 
penetration  of  mind  and  suppleness  and  ease  of  speech.  M.  Taine 
has  a  serious  vocation  and  marked  aptitudes  for  philosophical 
studies." — From  M.  Saisset's  reports,  kindly  communicated  by 
M.  Gabriel  Monod,  author  of  Renan,  Taine  and  Michelet. 

95 


LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF  H.  TAINE 

To  complete  his  German  studies,  besides  the  classical 
poets  and  prose  writers,  he  read  and  commented  on  the 
Nibelungen,  Luther's  Memoirs  and  Writings,  Mme.  de 
Stael's  Allemagne,  etc.  Lastly,  in  July  1850,  at  the  close 
of  the  school-year,  he  began  the  sketch  of  a  History  of 
Philosophy1  which  was  a  sort  of  epitome  of  his  studies, 
and  on  which  he  worked  during  the  vacation. 

1  See  Appendix  II. 


96 


CHAPTER  III 

Third  Year :  Agregation  Preparation  continued 
— Professors'  Reports — Failure  to  pass 
the  Agregation  Examination — Causes  of 
that  Failure — Letter  from  Prevost- 
'  Paradol  to  M.  Greard — Prevost- 
Paradol's  Article  in  the  Liber  te  de  Penser 
— Letters  from  MM.  Jules  Simon  and 
Vacherot 

H.  TAINE'S  last  year  at  the  Ecole  Normale  was  almost 
exclusively  given  up  to  preparation  for  the  Philosophy 
agrfyation,  under  the  direction  of  MM.  Jules  Simon  and 
Saisset,  maitres  des  conferences.1  The  notes  he  took  on 
the  third  year  classes  are  briefer  than  those  of  the  preced- 
ing years.  The  young  philosopher  reserved  his  time  for 
private  study  and  writings,  but  his  analyses  and  disser- 
tations were  very  remarkable.  M.  Saisset  wrote  at  the 
end  of  the  third  term  :  "  M.  Taine  is  the  one  of  the  three 
students  of  my  class  (Taine,  Cambier,  and  E.  de  Suckau) 
who  has  taken  the  first  rank  and  has,  so  to  say,  given  an 
impulse  to  all  our  work." 

The   principal   subjects   which   he   treated   are  :    Real 
Method,    Substance,    Descartes'  Theory    on   the   Cause   of 

1  See  page  17,  note  1, 

97  H 


LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF  H.  TAINE 

Error;  The  Origin  of  the  Idea  and  Principle  of  the  Sub- 
stance, The  Notion  of  the  Absolute,  Liberty,  Condillac's 
Treatise  of  the  Sensations,  The  Idea  of  Time,  Helvetius' 
Moral  Doctrine,  Adam  Smith's  Psychological  Doctrine, 
The  Moral  System  of  the  Stoics,  Plato's  Republic, 
Aristotle's  Moral  System,  Memory,  The  Act  of  Conscious- 
ness in  Psychological  Observation,  Exterior  Perception, 
etc.  .  .  . 

He  analysed  and  discussed  for  himself1  the  doctrines 
contained  in  Descartes'  Meditations,  in  the  writings  of 
Reid,  Maine  de  Biran,  Victor  Cousin,  Locke,  Leibnitz, 
Bacon,  Kant  (Criticism  of  Pure  Reason),  Montaigne's 
philosophy,  Aristotle's  second  Analytics,  Bossuet's  Know- 
ledge of  God  and  of  Self,  Plato's  Sophist,  etc. 

Lastly,  he  gave,  as  was  the  custom  in  the  philosophic 
class  at  the  Lycee  Bonaparte,  one  month's  lectures  on  the 
Theodicea.  Though  later  on  he  facetiously  inscribed  on 
the  cover,  "  Theodicea,  with  full  orchestral  accompani- 
ment," he  had  nevertheless  taken  great  pains  with  the 
preparation  of  the  thirteen  lessons  he  had  to  give. 

These  works  placed  him  on  the  highest  pinnacle  in  the 
eyes  of  his  masters  and  fellow-students  ;  his  professors, 
in  their  periodical  reports,  expressed  their  approbation 
in  the  highest  terms.  "  M.  Taine  has  a  remarkable  intellect 
and  will  sooner  or  later  do  credit  to  the  Ecole  by  publi- 
cations of  a  serious  order,"  wrote  M.  Jules  Simon  at  the 
end  of  the  last  term  of  the  third  year  ;  "his  work  of  the 
whole  year  has  been  most  persevering  ...  his  progress 
is  considerable  .  .  .  M.  Taine  will  ever  be  irreproachable 

1  The  complete  text  of  these  notes,  and  of  many  others,  is  to  be 
found  in  M.  Gabriel  Monod's  book,  Renan,  Taine  and  Michdet. 

98 


in  his  conduct  and  behaviour  ;  he  will  have  authority 
over  his  pupils  ;  he  already  has  a  real  talent  for  teaching." 
M.  Saisset's  report  ran  thus  :  "  M.  Taine  unfolded  in  his 
lectures  a  clear,  supple,  resourceful  mind,  perfectly  gifted 
for  teaching.  In  written  dissertations  M.  Taine  is  again 
in  the  front  rank  by  the  number  and  merit  of  his  works. 
.  .  .  His  principal  defect  is  his  excessive  taste  for  the 
abstract.  M.  Taine  should  be  encouraged  and  held  in 
check.  He  is  the  hope  of  the  coming  competition.  .  .  ." 
Finally  M.  Vacherot  had,  already  in  the  preceding  year, 
written  of  him  the  following  eulogy,  which  honours  the 
master  as  well  as  the  pupil :  "  The  hardest  worker,  the 
most  remarkable  student  whom  I  have  ever  known  at 
the  Ecole  Normale.  Prodigiously  learned  for  his  age. 
Has  an  ardour  and  an  avidity  for  knowledge  such  as  I 
have  never  met  with  before.  A  mind  remarkable  for 
rapidity  of  conception,  subtlety,  delicacy  and  force  of 
thought.  Understands,  conceives,  judges  and  formulates 
too  hastily,  however.  Is  too  fond  of  formulae  and  defi- 
nitions, to  which  he  too  often  sacrifices  reality,  quite  un- 
consciously, though,  for  he  is  perfectly  sincere.  Taine 
will  make  a  very  distinguished  professor,  but  also  and 
especially  a  savant  of  the  first  order.  With  great  gentle- 
ness of  character  and  amiable  manners,  he  has  an  indomit- 
able firmness  of  mind,  to  that  extent  that  no  one  exerts 
any  influence  on  his  thoughts.  Indeed,  he  is  not  of  this 
world.  Spinoza's  motto  will  be  his  :  Live  to  think.  Be- 
haviour and  conduct  excellent.  As  to  his  morals,  I  believe 
his  exceptional  and  superior  nature  to  be  a  stranger  to 
every  passion  save  that  for  Truth.  This  student  stands 
first  by  a  long  way  in  all  the  examinations." 

99 


LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF  H.  TAINE 

A  brilliant  success  seemed  to  await  so  many  efforts  and 
so  much  uncontested  merit.  It  was  not  to  be  so,  however, 
and  when  Hippolyte  Taine  went  up,  in  1851,  for  the 
philosophy  agregation,  he  failed  to  pass.  The  jury,  pre- 
sided over  by  Count  Portalis,  a  member  of  the  Institute 
and  of  the  Superior  Council  of  Public  Instruction,  was 
composed  of  MM.  Benard,  Franck,  Gamier,  Gibon,  and 
the  Abbe  Noirot.  Its  decision  struck  with  amazement 
the  masters  and  fellow-students  of  the  unfortunate  can- 
didate ;  here  is  the  account  given  by  some  of  them  of 
this  episode  with  which  M.  Taine's  career  opened  so  un- 
propitiously : — 

Prevost-Paradol  to  Octave  Gre'ard. 

September  7,  1851. 

.  .  .  Your  Edouard  (de  Suckau)  has  passed  first  for 
the  agregation.  Nonsense,  you  will  say,  what  about  Taine  ? 
Taine,  my  dear  fellow,  has  simply  been  plucked,  after 
undergoing  the  most  brilliant,  the  most  solid  examination 
I  have  ever  witnessed  in  the  Sorbonne.  Our  poor 
Edouard  is  quite  ashamed  of  having  beaten  his  master  ; 
he  charmed  his  judges  by  his  knowledge,  his  elegant  aban- 
don and  the  Teutonic  softness  of  his  speech.  But  those  are 
childish  qualities  by  the  side  of  the  force,  clearness,  accu- 
racy and  logic  of  my  friend  Taine.  You  cannot  think 
what  an  effect  he  produced  on  me,  how  proud  I  was  of 
him,  and  what  hopes  I  have  of  him  for  the  future.  I  had 
never  yet  seen  him  so  supple,  so  sinewy,  so  clear,  and, 
especially,  so  completely  at  his  ease.  He  was  the  master 
of  them  all,  and  there  was  some  respect  in  the  attention 
given  him.  His  delivery  is  very  steady,  and  at  the  same 

100 


THE   ECOLE   NORMALE 

time  animated  ;  a  contained  warmth,  an  inward  flame 
seem  to  give  life  to  whatever  he  touches.  It  is  passion 
clothed  in  reason.  How  did  they  manage  to  reject  him  ? 
Listen  to  the  ugly  tale,  and  congratulate  me  on  having 
already  last  year  left  this  dark  chamber  of  philosophical 
teaching.  You  know  that  the  viva  voce  examination 
consists  for  each  candidate  in  one  lesson  and  two  argu- 
mentations. It  fell  to  Taine  to  argue  with  Edouard.  It 
would  be  impossible  to  tell  you  the  gentleness,  friendliness 
and  persuasion  with  which  Taine  showed  himself  superior 
to  him  without  in  the  least  degree  humiliating  him.  The 
test  did  great  credit  to  both,  but  especially  to  Taine.  Fate 
then  decided  on  Aube  to  argue  with  Taine.  The  question 
was  :  Proofs  of  the  Existence  of  God,  in  Bossuet.  (You 
see  that  Fate  was  not  favourable  to  Taine  !)  He  stated 
his  postulate,  which  was  quite  invincible.  Aube  then 
attacked  him  with  ridiculous  emphasis  on  his  omission  of 
the  mention  of  Providence,  and  on  the  implicit  tendency 
which  seemed  to  make  him  confuse  Bossuet  with  Spinoza. 
You  cannot  imagine  a  more  disloyal,  clumsy,  cowardly, 
and  persistent  attack. 

He  ranted  so  much  that  the  examiners  interrupted  him 
several  times.  Taine  came  out  of  it  most  admirably,  and 
the  judges  now  own  to  every  one  that  after  the  argumen- 
tations Taine  undoubtedly  held  the  first  rank.  The  next 
day  Taine  gave  his  lesson  on  the  Object  of  Morality  ;  he 
had  given  it  in  the  morning  at  the  Ecole,  before  Edouard, 
Marot,  and  others,  who  all  thought  it  excellent.  I  heard 
it  at  the  Sorbonne,  and  followed  it  with  pleasure,  persuaded 
that  it  placed  him  definitively  beyond  competition.  And 
it  is  for  that  lesson  that  they  plucked  him  !  They  say 

101 


LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF  H.  TAINE 

that  he  did  it  otherwise  than  the  jury  had  conceived  it ; 
that  there  had  been  a  mistake  on  his  part  (and  on  ours 
then  !),  and  that  that  brilliant  and  learned  lesson  alone  pre- 
vented him  from  being  admitted.1  I  call  that  an  injustice 
and  a  lie.  Of  what  account  would  science  and  talent  then 
be  to  them,  if  an  uncontested  superiority  could  disappear 
before  an  absolutely  material  (and  doubtful !  !)  mistake, 
as  to  the  object  of  the  lesson  !  !  ! 

As  to  my  Taine,  he  takes  it  all  very  quietly,  and  he  is 
right,  for  he  has  the  better  part,  and  the  future  belongs 
to  him — or  rather  to  us — for  this  blow  has  made  our  con- 
cord more  intimate  and  more  cordial  than  ever.  .  .  . 

If  you  ever  see  the  Liberte  de  Penser,  you  will  perhaps 
find  in  it  a  short  article  by  M.  Louis  Bregan  and  a  note  in 
the  bulletin,  which,  though  signed  Jacques,  is  also  by  that 
M.  L.  B.  It  is  intended  to  be  unpleasant  to  Taine's 
judges  :  let  us  hope  it  will  fulfil  its  object. 

1  M.  Monod,  who  elucidated  with  much  care  this  point  of  M. 
Taine's  biography,  says  that  the  lesson  on  Bossuet  obtained  maxi- 
mum marks  (20),  and  that  the  failure  was  due  to  other  causes. 
The  subjects  for  the  written  competition  were :  For  Doctrinal 
Philosophy — "  Of  the  faculties  of  the  soul ;  demonstration  of 
Liberty.  Of  the  Ego,  its  identity  and  its  unity."  For  the  History 
of  Philosophy — "  Socrates,  after  Xenophon  and  Plato."  The 
fashion  in  which  M.  Taine  treated  these  subjects  did  not  please  the 
jury,  and,  without  the  efforts  of  M.  Benard,  who  had  been  his 
master  at  Bourbon,  he  would  not  have  been  declared  admissible. 
The  second  viva  voce  lesson,  where  he  had  to  expose  the  plan  of  a 
moral  system,  was  fatal  to  him  ;  he  had  taken  for  a  theme  Spinoza's 
proposition :  "  The  greater  efforts  a  man  makes  to  preserve  his  being, 
the  more  virtue  he  has  ;  the  more  a  thing  acts,  the  more  perfect 
it  is."  The  lesson  was  declared  absurd  by  the  jury.  (See  Renan, 
Taine  and  Michelet.) 

102 


THE   ECOLE   NORMALS 

Extract  from  Prevost-ParadoVs  Article  in  the  "  Liberte  de 
Penser  "  '  (vol.  viii.  p.  600). 

We  profess  the  sincerest  esteem  for  the  character  of 
M.  Portalis  ;  we  therefore  much  regret  that  his  debut  in 
the  chair  of  the  jury  for  the  philosophy  agregation  should 
have  been  marked  by  the  greatest  misfortune  which  can 
befall  a  conscientious  judge:  that  of  committing  an  evi- 
dent injustice. 

One  candidate  had  been  noted  amongst  all  others  by 
the  extent  of  his  knowledge,  the  force,  elegance  and 
clearness  of  his  speech,  and  the  unexpected  maturity  of 
his  talent.  In  argumentation,  he  had  united  a  rare  sub- 
tlety with  a  coolness,  justness  and  moderation  even  rarer. 
He  had  given  the  most  clearest,  coherent  and  most  philo- 
sophical lesson  that  had  been  heard  at  the  Sorbonne  for 
years.  Friends  and  rivals  considered  the  candidate  peer- 
less and  expected  him  to  pass  first.  And  M.  Taine  was 
simply  refused  !  He  fails  because  he  has  given  proof  of 
his  sincerity  and  good  taste.  He  fails  because  he  dis- 
dained easy  declamations  on  Providence,  religious  Morality 
and  the  necessity  of  a  cult :  common-places  which  the 
distinction  of  his  mind  alone  would  have  sufficed  to  keep 
him  from  uttering.  In  fact,  he  has  failed  because  he  gave 
new  demonstrations  of  old  truths,  because  he- did  not 

1  The  entire  text  is  reproduced  by  M.  Greard,  Prevost-Paradol, 
p.  17.r).  Prdvost  writes  to  M.  Grcard  on  the  subject  (Oct.  1,  1851  : 
"  The  note  on  Taine  is  out,  and  the  Siccle  has  reproduced  it.  About 
and  others  recognized  me.  I  did  not  hesitate  to  own  up.  I 
saw  Taine,  who  took  it  very  well.  As  to  Edouard,  he  had  approved 
of  the  manuscript.1'  **  2 

103 


LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF  H.  TAINE 

merely  recite  the  elementary  books  of  the  intolerant 
Ecole,  because  he  united  knowledge  and  independence, 
etc.,  etc.  .  .  ." 

Finally  MM.  Vacherot  and  Jules  Simon  wrote  to  Hippo- 
lyte  Taine,  to  condole  with  his  failure,  letters  which 
proved  their  affectionate  and  profound  esteem : — 

M.  Jules  Simon  to  H.  Taine. 

September  6,  1851. 

You  have  failed !  De  Suckau  will  not  mind  if  I  tell 
you  that  you  were  the  one  whose  success  seemed  to 
us  most  assured  ;  I  speak  for  all  your  masters.  Such  is 
life.  You  are  worthy  to  bear  this  first  sorrow  well. 
It  is  nothing,  really,  but  it  will  seem  hard  to  you,  at  your 
age.  If  the  testimony  of  a  master  who  is  at  the  same 
time  your  friend  can  help  you  to  take  courage,  let  me 
assure  you  that  I  have  had  few  pupils  more  capable  than 
you  of  being  agreges.  .  .  ." 

M.  Vacherot  to  M.  Taine. 

September,  1851. 

MY  DEAR  TAINE, — I  was  as  surprised  as  I  was  grieved 
by  your  failure.  I  knew  who  were  the  examiners  whom 
you  had  to  face,1  but  the  presence  of  my  friend  Benard 

1  The  members  of  the  jury  were  not  as  insensible  as  has  been 
believed  to  the  merits  of  the  young  philosopher.  We  find  in  a  letter 
from  Edouard  de  Suckau  (Nov.  11,  1851) :  "  I  called  on  M.  1'abbe 
Noirot  at  Lyons.  He  gave  me  new  and  curious  details  about  the 
agregation.  According  to  him,  there  was  but  one  reproach  that 
could  be  made  against  your  lesson  ;  it  was  not  suitable  :  it  was  too 
exalted  for  a  college  audience  ;  but  he  accepted  it  all,  plan,  method, 
principle,  deductions,  definitions,  everything.  There  was  nothing 

104 


THE  ECOLE   NORMALE 

reassured  me  on  your  account.  I  do  not  know  what 
happened  amongst  them,  but  I  am  convinced  that  you 
owed  your  failure  to  N.,  the  most  absolute  and  narrow- 
minded  man  I  know.  He  takes  no  account  of  talent  or 
originality  of  thought,  and  woe  betide  him  who  uncon- 
sciously contradicts  his  little  ideas,  paupertinam  phtio- 
sophiam.  I  know  him  so  well  that  if  I  had  been  in  Paris 
and  in  communication  with  you  at  the  time  of  the  examin- 
ation I  should  most  probably  have  kept  you  clear  of  that 
rock.  How  was  it  that  your  professors  and  M.  Benard 
did  not  warn  you.  N.  must  have  influenced  the  whole 
jury! 

Your  failure  is  not  serious,  you  know  ;  you  are  none 
the  less  worthy  of  passing  at  the  head  of  the  list,  and  it  is 
all  the  worse  for  the  examiners  who  could  not  or  would 
not  justly  balance  merits  and  faults.  You  cannot  have 
been,  and  you  certainly  were  not — from  all  I  have  heard — 

fallacious  (I  pressed  him  on  details  to  make  him  say  that),  only  a 
misplaced  expenditure  of  talent.  The  greatest  exclamations  came 
from  M.  Portalis  and  M.  Franck,  M.  Franck  especially.  As  for  him; 
M.  Noirot,  he  had  not  agreed  with  them  in  the  least.  What  pre- 
vented the  publication  of  the  report  (by  M.  Portalis),  he  thought,  was 
the  disagreement  of  the  members  of  the  jury  as  to  the  motives  of 
your  exclusion,  and  the  desire  to  drop  the  unjust  blame  which 
had  fallen  upon  you  and  upon  the  philosophical  teaching  of  the  Ecole 
into  oblivion."  Letter  from  M.  Jules  Simon  to  H.  Taine,  October 
1851  :  "  B6nard  owns  that  some  passion  was  brought  into  the 
judgment  of  your  last  trial ;  it  appears  that  M.  Portalis  declares 
in  his  report  that  your  lesson  is  a  regular  revelation  of  the  teaching 
at  the  Ecole,  and  that  it  will  not  be  too  soon  to  get  rid  of  professors 
who  train  such  pupils.  I  have  Saisset's  word  for  this."  M. 
Portalis's  report  alone  was  not  published  ;  it  has  disappeared  from 
the  Archives  of  the  Public  Education  Office,  as  also  the  notes 
concerning  M.  Taine. 

105 


LIFE   AND   LETTERS   OF   H.   TAINE 

so  far  beneath  yourself  as  not  to  preserve  a  great  superi- 
ority over  all  your  competitors.  But  you  were  already 
suspected  of  bad  tendencies,  and  you  were  unfortunate 
enough  to  fall  upon  N.  as  an  examiner. 

Do  not  worry  about  the  future  ;  whatever  happens 
you  will  take  your  proper  place  next  year.  You  will 
then  be  all  the  more  secure  of  success,  whatever  examiners 
you  may  have,  that  you  will  have  been  teaching  science 
for  a  year  to  young  minds  which  you  will  have  to  reach 
by  descending  to  their  level.  Whatever  place  is  given 
you,  beware  of  refusing  and  of  asking  for  leave.  Elemen- 
tary teaching  is  a  test  which  is  absolutely  necessary  to 
you.  It  is  the  only  preparation  you  have  not  had,  and 
I  earnestly  recommend  it  to  you.  I  expected  to  find  you 
resigned,  but  I  congratulate  you  now  none  the  less  on 
your  practical  philosophy. 

I  do  not  advise  you  to  take  Hegel's  Logic  as  a  subject 
for  your  thesis  ;  the  Faculty  would  not  accept  it.  Psy- 
chology, even  elementary,  still  in  a  great  degree  remains  to 
be  created.  Concentrate  your  readings  this  year  and  all 
your  meditations  on  that  part  of  Science,  still  so  new  and 
so  interesting. 

Thus  encouraged  and  counselled,  Hippolyte  Taine  joined 
his  family  at  Vouziers  and  waited  for  the  post  which  was 
to  be  given  him  in  October. 


106 


PART  III 
PROFESSORSHIP 

CHAPTER  I 

Appointment  at  Nevers — Preparation  of 
Lectures  for  the  Agregation,  and  of  the 
Theses  on  Sensation — Correspondence 

A  NEW  life,  no  less  full  than  the  former,  was  about  to  begin 
in  the  provinces.  Mme.'s  Taine'  great  desire,  shared 
by  her  son,  was  that  the  latter  should  obtain  a  post  in  a 
lycee  near  Paris,  so  that  their  separation  should  be  lessened, 
and  in  order  that  Hippolyte  Taine  should  more  easily 
fulfil  his  duties  as  head  of  the  family  towards  his  young 
sisters.  He  also  much  desired  to  remain  within  reach  of 
the  Libraries  and  of  the  great  scientific  centres  which  were 
to  help  him  to  continue  his  physiological  studies.  Friends 
had  interceded,  to  that  effect,  with  the  Minister,  and 
amongst  them  M.  Guizot  himself,  to  whom  the  young 
Normalien  had  been  introduced  by  his  son-in-law,  Cornells 
de  Witt.  But  universitarian  hostility  prevailed,  and  his 
presence  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Paris  was  not  desired  ; 
he  was  given  a  post  at  the  Toulon  lycee.  After  some  further 

107 


LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF  H.  TAINE 

solicitations,  the  Minister  consented  to  entrust  to  him 
the  Assistant  Professorship  of  Philosophy  at  Nevers,  which 
was  vacant  at  the  time  on  account  of  the  ill-health  of  the 
then  incumbent  of  that  post :  this  position  was  considered 
by  M.  Taine's  friends  as  very  far  below  his  deserts.  He 
was  obliged  to  take  possession  of  it  at  once,  to  prepare 
his  lectures  in  haste,  and  to  organize  his  material  life, 
busying  himself  for  the  first  time  with  practical  details 
very  uncongenial  to  his  contemplative  nature.  He  made 
up  his  mind  to  all  these  little  troubles  with  his  accustomed 
resignation,  and  applied  himself  first  of  all  to  reassuring 
his  mother,  whose  anxious  tenderness  was  alarmed  at  this 
complete  change  of  life.  This  year  was  perhaps  the  most 
laborious  and  the  most  fruitful  of  Hippolyte  Taine's  life  ; 
to  the  preparation  for  the  Philosophy  agregation,  dis- 
continued in  December,  immediately  succeeded  that  for 
the  agregation  des  lettres.  He  wrote,  in  vain,  his  Psychology 
theses,  which  were  refused,  and  he  had  to  turn  to  the  more 
innocent  subjects  of  La  Fontaine  and  the  Young  Men  of 
Plato.  The  intellectual  persecution  of  which  he  was  then 
the  object  no  doubt  prevented  him  from  giving  himself 
up  to  pure  abstraction,  and,  by  constraining  him  to  go 
back  to  Literature  and  History,  it  has  endowed  us  with 
such  works  as  the  History  of  English  Literature  and  the 
Origines  de  la  France  Contemporaine.  But  it  was  not 
without  deep  suffering  (of  which  a  trace  will  be  found  in 
his  letters  in  1852)  that  he  momentarily  detached  himself 
from  what  Prevost-Paradol  called  "  his  pure  and  beloved 
mistress,"  the  philosophical  research  of  Absolute  Truth. 
He  did  not  yet  know  that  an  ardent  vocation  like  his, 
associated  with  a  powerful  will,  can  resist  the  greatest  trials, 

108 


PROFESSORSHIP 

and  that  all  his  works,  whether  literary,  aesthetic,  or  his- 
torical, would  be  but  varied  applications  of  his  psycho- 
logical theories. 

The  planning  out  of  his  lectures  took  up  some  precious 
time  which  he  would  have  liked  to  use  in  more  exalted 
speculations  ;  but  he  looked  upon  this  sacrifice  as  the 
ransom  of  his  independence.  Some  of  his  pupils  were  in- 
telligent enough,  and  understood  his  lectures  ;  he  was  still 
hoping  at  that  time  to  pass  his  Philosophy  agregation  in 
the  summer,  and,  not  satisfied  with  so  much  work,  he 
began  to  prepare  a  psychology  thesis.  He  spent  many  of 
his  solitary  evenings  at  Nevers  in  making  that  series  of 
observations  of  himself  which  were  thereafter  to  find  a 
place  in  the  treatise  on  Sensations,  and  which  he  also 
utilized  in  the  Theory  of  the  Intelligence.  Sitting  alone 
by  his  fireside,  he  analysed  his  sensations  of  taste,  smell, 
of  touch,  of  hearing,  and  of  sight,  writing  them  down  in 
notes  which  have  been  preserved.  His  correspondence 
gives  us  the  essential  facts  of  that  period  of  his  life,  and 
shows  the  vicissitudes  he  had  to  go  through  before  he 
ended  his  University  career.  He  preserved,  as  in  former 
years,  several  notes  of  his  readings  and  of  the  manuscripts 
of  his  principal  works. 

To  his  Mother. 

October  15,  1851. 

All  is  well.  I  have  a  pretty,  bright  room  on  the 
second  floor,  facing  the  best  street,  a  dressing-room,  and  a 
little  hall  passage,  with  a  lot  of  cupboards  ;  I  dine  at  a 
boarding-house,  with  several  of  the  College  Professors. 
The  Principal  seems  pleasant ;  he  has  just  been  here  and 

109 


LTFE  AND  LETTERS  OF  H.  TAINE 

has  asked  me  to  dinner  for  to-morrow.  I  begin  my  lectures 
on  Friday  ;  to-morrow  I  shall  spend  the  day  paying  calls. 
The  Principal  promises  that  I  shall  have  the  bacccdaurdat 
candidates  to  prepare  :  it  will  take  five  hours  a  week — I 
shall  have  to  correct  exercises,  etc. ;  very  little  trouble, 
really.  I  shall  get  500  fr.  for  it. 

...  I  have  only  just  arrived,  and  have  not  much  to 
say  :  the  Professors  I  have  met  do  not  seem  very  dis- 
tinguished, either  in  mind  or  manners.  The  Proviseur 
seems  a  good  fellow,  and  he  is  better  than  the  others.  But 
you  need  not  fear  that  I  shall  frequent  bad  company. 
I  have  not  yet  planned  out  my  time  :  I  must  see  how  much 
will  be  taken  up  by  my  class  and  my  lectures.  They  say 
the  neighbourhood  is  pretty.  I  shall  walk  out  a  great  deal. 
I  am  going  to  learn  much  concerning  both  men  and  things. 
It  was  time  I  left  the  Convent  for  real  life  ;  this  year  is 
perhaps  a  unique  opportunity  of  making  acquaintance 
with  a  small  town,  its  inhabitants,  and  a  mediocre  college 
— real  provincial  life  in  fact. 

My  room  is  very  nice  except  for  three  pictures,  which 
represent  Italian  brigands  surprised  by  soldiers  of  the 
Pope,  and  the  gunner  heroine  of  Saragossa ;  they  are  worthy 
of  Tobais'  fish  and  of  the  phenomenal  dog  with  a  horse's 
legs.  I  would  have  taken  them  down  if  I  were  not  afraid 
of  hurting  the  feelings  of  my  landlady.  Am  I  beginning  to 
hide  my  opinions  and  to  consider  people  ?  Wily  as  the 
serpent,  strong  as  the  lion  !  !  ! 


110 


PROFESSORSHIP 

To  fidouard  de  Suckau* 

October  22,  1851. 

MY  DEAR,* — Thank  you ;  Here  is  now  for  my  news :  I 
am  Assistant  Professor  of  Philosophy  at  Nevers,  with 
1,200  fr.,  instead  of  1,800  at  Toulon.  My  mother  was  very 
sorry,  as  you  will  imagine,  but  I  have  exhorted  her  so 
much  and  have  appeared  so  pleased  that  she  has  made 
up  her  mind  to  it  at  last.  I  found  that  here,  besides  my 
class,  I  have  the  coaching  of  the  baccalureat  candidates 
five  hours  a  week,  and  500  fr.  a  year,  so  that  Nevers  is 
worth  almost  as  much  as  Toulon.  Even  without  this,  I 
should  have  more  than  I  want ;  what  is  there  to  spend 
money  on  ?  The  theatre  here  is  execrable.  I  shall  hardly 
go  into  society  at  all.  My  books  and  piano  are  already 
bought.  Cafes  disgust  me,  and  I  spend  all  day  working 
in  a  room  ! 

I  have  sixteen  pupils  ;  what  do  you  think  of  that, 
Monsieur  the  First  Agrege  and  Lycee  Professor  ?  They 
seem  about  as  imbecile  as  in  Paris,  much  more  ignorant 
and  much  more  docile.  I  have  to  go  back  to  Antiquity, 
History,  and  Literature  for  my  evening  baccalaureat 
classes.  It  is  not  a  bad  thing ;  I  should  otherwise  have 
no  opportunity  of  ever  speaking  on  those  subjects. 

I  dine  in  a  boarding-house  with  two  mathematical  pro- 
fessors (one  of  whom  is  Roulier 3),  two  notary's  clerks,  one 
Post  Office  managing  clerk,  and  one  man  in  a  tax-collecting 

1  M.  de  Suckau  had  just  been  appointed  to  a  Professor's  chair 
at  the  lycee  of  St.  Etienne,  near  Lyons. 

2  In  English  in  the  original. 

3  M.  Roulier  had  entered  the  Ecole  Normale  (acientific  section) 
in  1821. 

Ill 


LIFE   AND   LETTERS   OF   H.   TAINE 

office,  not  bad  fellows,  ordinary  and  rather  noisy,  Liberals, 
and  rather  unchristian.  Unfortunately,  they  are  sadly 
wanting  in  wit  or  humour.  I  called  on  the  authorities, 
but  they  were  out,  as  also  most  of  my  colleagues  ;  I  left 
cards.  The  Chaplain  is  witty,  but  he  is  a  knave  ;  he 
returned  my  call,  and  as  I  was  showing  him  out  he  said  : 
"  We  will  help  each  other,  we  will  warn  each  other ;  for 
instance,  you  could  let  me  know  if  one  of  your  pupils 
showed  signs  of  irrdigion"  I  was  amazed ;  he  was 
already  downstairs  before  I  was  able  to  answer.  The 
Vice-Principal  is  a  jolly,  fat  man,  very  free  in  his  language. 
The  Principal  goes  to  vespers  ;  he  is  very  friendly,  and 
has  asked  me  to  dinner.  His  wife  is  a  Society  woman, 
a  Catholic  and  a  Reactionary,  she  talks  well,  and  spoke 
English  to  me  ;  she  is  the  only  person  I  care  to  meet  here 
(do  not  misunderstand  me,  she  is  fifty  !).  The  Rector  is 
a  priest,  but  a  good  Universitarian,  and  well  disposed 
towards  the  College  ;  the  Bishop  is  dangerous.  I  shall 
not  see  many  people  ;  I  am  too  aristocratic  in  my  tastes, 
and  the  air  of  Nevers  is  too  Boeotian.  I  shall  only  now 
and  then  turn  the  pages  of  my  neighbours  and  colleagues. 
I  give  my  lectures  with  care  and  prudence,  trying  to  intro- 
duce a  few  ideas  in  those  unripe  brains ;  it  is  a  good  prepar- 
ation for  the  agr^gation. 

Such  is  my  inferior  ego.  But  I  spend  half  the  day  in  a 
better  region,  in  conversing  with  you  and  other  friends, 
or  with  my  books,  my  piano,  and  especially  my  work. 
I  am  experimenting  on  myself,  old  fellow.  I  have  be- 
gun a  long  essay  on  Sensations.  You  know  that,  in 
my  view,  they  are  the  starting  point  of  psychology,  and 
that  in  them  are  to  be  found  the  clearest  notions  on  the 

112 


PROFESSORSHIP 

nature  of  the  Soul,  etc.  .  .  .  Perhaps  it  will  be  my  thesis. 
M.  Vacherot  told  me  that  an  exposition  of  Hegel's  doctrines 
would  not  be  accepted.  At  any  rate,  it  will  be  the  be- 
ginning of  long  researches  on  psychology.  That,  my  dear 
Edouard,  is  going  to  keep  me  company  all  the  winter. 
I  put  my  feet  on  my  fender,  I  poke  my  fire,  I  smoke,  I 
read,  in  fact  I  lead  the  life  of  a  hermit.  As  long  as  I  have 
food  for  my  brains  I  am  sure  not  to  be  bored — the  rest 
may  go  as  it  pleases. 

You  recognize  your  old  Chief,  do  you  not  ?  But  the 
Chief  is  incomplete  without  his  Edouard.  I  miss  you,  my 
dear  Ed.  I  knew  I  was  fond  of  you,  but  on  the  day  of 
the  agregation  you  behaved  so  like  a  Sister  of  Mercy,  a 
Madonna  of  Charity,  that  I  have  kept  a  sort  of  filial 
recollection  of  you.  You  tended  my  wounds  with  the 
lightest  hand  I  have  ever  felt,  and  one  does  not  forget 
those  things  ;  I  shall  ever  be  your  debtor  after  that  day. 
If  the  same  thing  happens  to  me  again  next  year,  I  shall 
again  rely  on  your  consolations  ;  this,  my  dear  fellow, 
is  my  trouble  for  this  year,  it  is  that  well-founded  fear, 
my  interrupted  career  and  uncertain  future  :  I  tried  to 
pass  under  the  Caudine  Forks,  and  have  been  repulsed  ; 
shall  I  be  more  successful  a  second  time  ?  Well,  it  cannot 
be  helped,  and  I  am  already  prepared  for  that  misfortune. 

I  do  not  know  what  is  the  plan  of  studies  that  I  am 
asked  for.  If  it  is  a  programme,  it  is  that  of  the  bac- 
calaureat.  A  profession  of  faith  ?  Come  ! !  The  Princi- 
pal is  going  to  show  me  that  of  my  predecessor. 

Write  to  me  about  your  projects  concerning  Philosophy, 
about  your  present  doctrines,  give  me  back  my  Edouard 
of  the  Ecole  ! ! 

113  i 


LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF  H.  TAINE 

I  am  wily  like  the  serpent.  God  bless  you,  my 
brother. 

To  Mademoiselle  Virginie  Taine. 

October  29,  1851. 

You  ask  me  for  details,  my  dear  girl ;  they  are  not  very 
amusing,  but  here  they  are  :  I  get  up  at  5.30,  prepare  my 
class  till  7.30,  give  it  from  8  to  10,  practise  the  piano  till  11, 
and  have  lunch  from  11  to  12.  From  12  to  4,  and  from  7 
p.m.  to  10,  I  work  for  myself.  I  give  a  lecture  in  College 
from  4.15  to  5.15,  and  have  some  music  from  5.15  to  6, 
when  I  dine.  On  Thursdays  and  Sundays  I  am  free. 

I  have  the  baccalaureat  class  ;  my  pupils  are  igno- 
rant, but  willing,  and  I  find  some  pleasure  in  introducing 
ideas  into  those  new  brains.  My  lectures  make  me  read 
up  the  great  writers,  which  is  an  advantage.  On  the 
whole,  the  balance  is  on  the  right  side. 

I  am  very  comfortable  ;  my  room  is  nice,  my  bed  soft ; 
when  my  head  aches  with  work,  I  have  my  piano  and  cigar- 
ettes. I  have  begun  two  long  papers ;  ideas  run  in  my 
head  and  chatter  away  all  day.  I  have  not  a  minute  to 
be  bored.  I  shall  not  see  much  of  my  table  companions, 
there  is  no  sympathy  between  us  ;  I  may  see  something 
of  the  Rhetoric  Professor.  Yesterday  I  had  some  music 
with  Madame  la  Principale,  who  is  not  up  to  much.  I  could 
frequent  a  few  drawing-rooms  if  I  liked,  but  I  hardly  wish 
to  do  so,  I  revel  too  much  in  my  solitude  and  freedom. 
My  books  and  music  recall  so  many  things,  happy  talks 
and  conversations  by  the  fireside  in  the  evening  !  How 
difficult  it  is  to  converse  !  Stiff  commonplaces  with  my 
colleagues,  jokes  at  dinner  with  my  fellow  boarders,  that 
is  all.  Every  day  the  human  level  seems  to  me  lower. 

114 


PROFESSORSHIP 

But  I  bury  myself  in  my  philosophy,  and  (forgive  my 
fatuity  !)  I  think  myself  good  enough  company  not  to  be 
bored  when  alone. 

Uncle  Alexandre  came  on  Monday.  I  took  him  to  the 
table  d'hote,  and  we  chattered  in  my  room  all  the  evening, 
before  my  fire,  and  sipping  my  coffee.  I  laugh  to  think 
of  myself  as  a  housekeeper,  a  host !  I  assure  you,  I  manage 
very  well.  I  do  not  see  that  any  expenses  are  required  ; 
it  is  pleasure  that  costs  men  so  much,  and  I  take  mine 
very  economically,  seated  at  my  writing  table.  I  am  proud 
that  other  men's  amusements  do  not  amuse  me.  I  should 
be  unhappy  if  I  saw  no  other  object  in  my  life  than  the 
attaining  some  rank  or  other.  My  ambition  goes  far  beyond 
that,  and  my  will  has  never  yet  failed  my  ambition. 

M.  N.  has  written  me  a  somewhat  pedantic  and  conde- 
scending letter  of  advice,  with  a  slight  shade  of  acidity.  I 
answered  quite  properly,  telling  him  that  I  was  not  a 
vampire,  that  I  did  not  wish  to  overturn  any  of  the  beliefs 
of  the  young  men  confided  to  me,  that  my  teaching  was 
parallel,  and  that  I  did  not  speak  of  Metaphysics  but  simply 
of  the  actions  of  the  mind,  of  the  rules  of  reasoning  and 
of  conduct.  It  appears  that  they  wrote  from  the  Cabinet 
to  M.  Guizot :  "  We  hope  that  M.  Taine  will  justify  by 
the  wisdom  of  his  teaching  and  of  his  conduct  the  confidence 
of  the  honourable  gentlemen  who  .  .  .  etc."  You  see  what 
that  means  !  M.  N.  thereupon  thought  me  plague-stricken. 
I  am  sending  him  the  syllabus  of  my  lectures  as  a  certificate 
of  salubrity.  But  what  villainy  in  the  Ecole  !  For  I  gave 
cause  for  that  outward  opinion  by  no  outward  action  ! 
Who  can  have  pried  into  our  conversations  ?  M.  Y.  per- 
haps, through  his  zealots,  or  M.  Z.  ...  I  have  heard  here 

115 


LIFE   AND   LETTERS   OF   H.   TAINE 

of  some  tricks  of  his  in  former  times.  I  wonder.  Anyhow, 
I  shall  be  as  dumb  as  the  dead  here,  so  as  to  be  in  odour 
of  sanctity  next  year. 

My  health  is  very  good  ;  do  not  let  mother  worry  about 
me.  My  trouble  is  but  a  pin-prick  to  my  pride.  If  I  am 
to  succeed  hereafter,  I  must  have  a  few  years  of  solitary 
meditation.  I  am  working  with  a  good  heart  here,  my 
wheat  is  ripening  for  the  harvest. 

Write  and  tell  me  also  how  you  spend  your  day,  the 
books  you  read,  what  you  think  of  them.  If  you  have 
fetched  the  Rethel  books,  read  Voltaire's  Charles  XII.  and 
Essay  on  Manners,  and  Rousseau's  Emile  or  else  La 
Bruyere's  Characters.  Let  us  have  a  few  discussions  by 
correspondence.  Try  and  get  my  mother  too  to  read  a 
little  ;  it  is  the  only  way  of  soothing  the  mind  and  for- 
getting troubles.  The  activity  of  the  mind  is  the  best  medi- 
cine for  sadness.  I  do  not  know  the  future,  but  certainly 
your  education  has  provided  you  with  a  refuge  in  the 
companionship  of  the  great  minds  of  the  past.  The  in- 
sipidity of  the  present  life  and  the  stupidity  of  our  acquaint- 
ances is  forgotten  when  we  go  into  that  other  world. 
Education  is  but  a  card  of  invitation  to  those  noble  and 
privileged  salons.  I  advise  my  Sophie  to  take  Froissart 
from  our  books.  If  you  could  have  St.  Simon's  Memoirs 
it  would  be  better  still.  Send  me  a  list  of  the  principal 
books  you  have,  and  I  will  tell  you  what  to  read. 

To  Prevost-Paradol. 

October  30,  1851. 

MY  DEAR  PREVOST, — I  have  had  so  many  duty  letters  to 
write  that  I  had  to  postpone  the  pleasurable  ones.  You 

116 


PROFESSORSHIP 

will  forgive  me,  will  you  not  ?  Besides,  you  have  probably 
heard  of  me  through  Edmond  (About),  to  whom  I  sent  a 
work  on  Homer.  By  the  bye,  ask  him  if  he  has  received 
it,  and  tell  him  to  write  to  me  (his  address  is  Rue  des 
Francs-Bourgeois  St.  Michel,  Hotel  St.  Michel). 

Well,  I  have  left  the  harbour  where  you  are  still  at 
anchor,  and  I  am  sailing  across  Life's  ocean.  That  ocean, 
my  dear  fellow,  is  a  bog,  a  stagnant  puddle.  It  is  all  flat 
and  insipid.  What  shall  I  tell  you  of  my  fellow  boarders  ? 
They  are  merry,  and  honourable,  they  have  had  a  liberal 
education  and  studied  law  in  Paris,  they  are  unmarried, 
they  have  liberal  opinions — two  notary's  clerks,  two  tax- 
collectors,  and  two  College  Professors.  They  make  puns 
and  improper  jokes,  get  hoarse  over  politics,  and  are 
even  witty  sometimes. 

My  other  colleagues,  the  Principal,  the  people  I  meet, 
are  sufficiently  well  bred  ;  they  talk,  they  appear  to  think, 
but  they  are  bores.  I  became  spoilt  at  the  Ecole  ;  we 
shall  never  find  anything  like  it  again.  The  pleasure  of 
feeling  oneself  surrounded  by  open  young  minds,  sharpened 
by  studies  and  perpetual  contact,  is  lost  for  ever.  After  a 
certain  age  one  becomes  stiffened  in  one's  ideas  and  habits. 
One  appears  to  think  and  to  feel,  but  really  one  only 
remembers  ;  petrification  is  fatal.  If  death  were  not  there 
to  bring  about  new  generations,  ideas  would  not  advance 
by  one  step,  and  we  should  still  be  building  pyramids  like 
the  Egyptians. 

I  am  struggling  as  well  as  I  can  against  this  benumbing 
influence.  I  work  for  two  hours  every  morning  at  prepara- 
tion for  my  class,  which  I  take  at  8  o'clock.  It  leaves  me 
seven  hours  a  day,  besides  Thursdays  and  Sundays  for  my 

117 


LIFE   AND   LETTERS   OF   H.   TAINE 

private  studies.  I  have  again  begun  long  researches  on 
Sensations.  It  is  in  them  that  the  union  between  the  body 
and  the  soul  is  most  clearly  to  be  seen.  That  will  be  my 
thesis,  since  they  will  not  have  an  exposition  of  Hegel's 
Logic. 

I  am  reading  Logic,  and  understanding  it,  but  it  is  as 
difficult  to  woo  as  the  coyest  maiden.  Still,  it  takes  me 
up  into  exalted  regions.  Voltaire  used  to  say  to  Mme.  du 
Deffand  that  metaphysical  dreams  had  that  advantage, 
that  they  carried  one  to  the  Empyrean. 

You  see  my  life  :  to-day,  being  Thursday,  I  am  going  to 
look  at  the  country.  Once  or  twice  I  have  had  some  music 
in  the  evening  with  Mme.  la  Principale.  I  smoke,  I  warm 
my  toes  ;  I  have  some  beautiful  sonatas  here — on  the 
whole  I  am  content. 

Our  Rector  is  a  good  man,  though  a  priest.  He  has  ad- 
vised me  to  be  prudent ;  my  lectures  are,  in  appearance, 
as  innocent  as  possible.1  Nothing  but  Psychology,  Logic, 
and  Morality.  I  announce  in  my  syllabus  that  I  shall  not 
dwell  upon  the  Theodicea,  and  that,  on  account  of  the 
difficulties  of  that  part  of  the  Science,  I  would  substitute 


1  The  Philosophy  lectures  were  perhaps  not  as  innocent  as  M. 
Taine  thought  they  were.  The  Psychology  lessons  are  indeed 
sheltered  under  the  names  of  Aristotle,  Descartes,  Reid,  Cousin, 
Jouffroy,  Maine  de  Biran ;  but  Locke,  Hume,  Condillac,  Cabanis 
and  Muller  also  intervene  from  time  to  time.  It  is  difficult  to  be- 
lieve that,  at  the  time  when  he  was  writing  the  first  sketch  of  that 
treatise  of  the  Sensations  which  was  to  become  the  subject  of  his 
thesis,  so  sincere  a  man  should  not  have  betrayed  his  convictions 
while  speaking  of  Exterior  Perception,  of  Sensation,  of  the  Association 
of  Ideas  or  of  Images.  See  Appendix  III.,  the  syllabus  of  these 
lectures. 

118 


PROFESSORSHIP 

the  words  and  authority  of  Descartes,  Bossuet,  etc.,  for 
my  own.  ...  I  will  do  four  or  five  months'  psychology  ; 
when  my  pupils  part  with  me,  they  will  not  believe  that 
we  see  God  face  to  face,  that  the  soul  is  a  little  being 
located  nowhere,  or  that  a  stone  is  composed  of  immaterial 
monads,  as  we  are  taught  with  so  much  success.  Other- 
wise, my  circumspection  is  absolute.  I  am  keeping 
myself  to  myself,  I  only  quote  psychologists  or  physiolo- 
gists in  my  lectures;  I  am  scrupulously  polite  with 
everybody.  Pray  that  I  may  not  become  like  the  people 
I  frequent  here.  How  is  your  Bernardin,1  you  happy 
laureate  ? 

Edouard  has  written  to  me.  Well,  good-bye  till  next 
year,  and  let  us  try  to  be  in  the  same  town  ;  I  should  like 
to  have  you  as  a  companion  in  this  desert. 

Tell  N.  I  shall  write  to  him  soon ;  you  will  continue  to 
lead  him  in  the  path  of  virtue,  will  you  not  ?  Give  me 
news  of  the  Ecole  and  of  the  recruits  to  be  made  there. 

If  you  have  the  opportunity,  will  you  call  at  Franck's, 
Rue  Richelieu,  and  tell  him  to  send  me  the  end  of  my 
Hegel  ? 

Beg  Planat's  pardon  for  me — I  have  not  yet  written  to 
him. 

To  Mademoiselle  Sophie  Taine. 

November  9,  1851. 

But  why  will  you  imagine  that  I  am  unhappy  ?  How 
could  I  be  so  with  these  enchanting  studies  and  the  ideas 

1  PreVost-Paradol  was  writing  a  Eulogy  of  Bernardin  cle  Saint 
Pierre,  which  obtained  the  Eloquence  prize  given  by  the  Acadcmie 
Franvaisr  in  1852. 


LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF  H.  TAINE 

which  are  incessantly  at  work  in  my  brain,  conversing  with 
me  as  if  they  were  my  best  and  most  delightful  friends  ? 
My  life  is  so  full  that  I  have  not  a  moment  to  feel  dull  or 
sad.  When  I  get  up,  I  think  while  I  am  dressing,  and  I 
forget  that  it  would  be  pleasant  to  stay  in  bed.  After  all 
where  is  the  hardship  of  working  in  the  early  morning,  in 
a  warm  dressing-gown,  with  my  feet  on  a  carpet  ?  I  ac- 
quired the  habit  at  the  Ecole,  and  I  retain  it ;  it  adds  two 
extra  hours  to  my  life  every  day  ;  in  twelve  years'  time 
it  will  make  a  year.  To  live  is  to  act  and  to  produce  ;  you 
could  have  no  esteem  for  a  lazy  Sybarite. 

It  is  well  to  read  Froissart,  but  do  not  ask  him  for  facts, 
simply  note  the  manners  and  customs  of  the  time  ;  read 
it  like  a  novel.  You  can  read  Rollin  in  the  same  way,  but 
you  will  profit  less  by  it.  I  had  asked  you  for  a  list  of  our 
books.  Ask  mother  to  give  you  Bernardin  de  St.  Pierre  ; 
read  Racine's  letters  to  his  son,  to  Boileau,  and  the 
correspondence  of  his  youth,  also  M.  Villemain's  literature 
course,  and  M.  Nisard's.  Mother  will  tell  you  what  to  read 
of  Mme.  de  Stael,  and  I  am  particularly  anxious  that  you 
should  procure  M.  Mignet's  French  Revolution.  It  is  in 
two  volumes  only,  and  will  spare  you  from  reading  M. 
Thiers.  Do  not  extract  facts  ;  merely  take  note  of  special 
traits,  and  write  down  your  criticisms  ;  send  me  a  shortened 
copy  of  your  notes  in  mother's  letters.  To  read  is  the 
chief  thing  now.  Your  former  studies  have  supplied  you 
with  a  frame,  which  you  must  now  fill  with  the  ideas  you 
will  get  from  your  reading. 

I  have  the  most  docile  pupils  ;  everything  is  going  on 
well  in  the  College.  The  Principal  has  asked  me  to  his 
house  for  to-morrow  evening.  Nobody  here  will  set  the 

120 


PROFESSORSHIP 

river  on  fire,  but  I  meet  with  courtesy  and  kindliness  every- 
where. I  have  no  worries,  my  domestic  cares  are  almost 
nil.  My  life  is  hardly  changed  from  what  it  was  ;  I  took 
with  me  all  my  brain-furniture,  so  that  I  find  myself  quite 
at  home.  And  then  I  have  my  piano  and  my  books. 
When  I  am  at  my  table  or  by  my  fire,  following  out  my 
ideas  or  writing  down  my  experiences,  I  am  in  Paradise  ; 
and,  if  my  head  aches,  how  tender  and  expressive  is  Men- 
delssohn's music,  or  Mozart's  !  When  I  think  of  so  many 
other  poor  fellows  I  feel  inclined  to  become  a  socialist 
against  myself  and  to  curse  myself  as  privileged. 

I  have  just  received  100  fr.  and  90  c.  for  my  travelling 
expenses  :  I  am  a  Croesus.  We  shall  meet,  but  at  Vouziers ; 
I  shall  perhaps  have  ten  days,  and  what  would  mother  do 
here  whilst  I  was  at  the  College  or  preparing  my  classes  ? 
I  would  a  hundred  times  rather  see  the  dear  old  house 
and  spend  a  happy  week  in  our  own  home.  Come,  coraggio, 
mia  cara,  and  let  us  look  forward  !  One  day,  when  I  am 
a  Minister,  it  will  be  an  agreeable  contrast  to  think  of 
Nevers  College. 

I  am  becoming  accustomed  to  my  fellow  boarders  and 
to  the  people  with  whom  I  exchange  calls  ;  but,  frankly, 
I  am  better  alone.  Is  it  sheer  vanity  ?  In  that  case  it 
would  also  be  flattering  to  you  three,  for  you  have  made 
me  difficult  to  please.  Yes,  my  dear,  one  day  you  will 
know  how  rare  it  is  to  meet  with  unaffected  cleverness, 
sentiment  and  culture,  and  you  will  then  appreciate  your- 
selves. 


121 


LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF  H.  TAINE 

To  Prevost-Paradol. 

November  16,  1851. 

You  are  an  adorable  being  !  If  I  were  Ed.  I  would 
hug  you,  to  reward  you  for  such  a  letter  ;  you  are  I,  I  am 
you,  how  delightful  ! 

My  dear  friend,  you  are  indeed  right  when  you  look  upon 
Science  as  mystical.1  Nature  is  God,  the  real  God,  and 
why  ?  Because  it  is  perfectly  beautiful,  eternally  living, 
absolutely  one  and  necessary.  Is  it  not  because  their 
God  is  such  that  the  Christians  love  Him  ?  And  if  we  will 
have  none  of  Him,  it  is  because  His  human  attributes 
vilify  Him  so  far  as  to  make  of  Him  a  king  or  a  lover.  I 
would  therefore  say  to  our  Greard  :  "  The  true  God  is 
what  you  love  in  the  Christian  God,  He  is  not  what  you 
despise.  He  therefore  satisfies  your  heart  as  well  as  your 
reason.  Leave  to  nuns  their  Lover,  to  valets  their  King  ; 
you  who  are  a  free  and  a  learned  man  can  have  no  God 
but  the  infinite  and  perfect  All.  They  know  Him  not  who 
deny  that  He  is  God,  saying  that  He  is  multiple  and  im- 
perfect. Multiplicity,  Imperfection,  and  Contingence  are 
but  a  delusion  of  the  abstracting  spirit.  One  part  of  the 
world  claims  another,  as  one  organ  of  the  body  makes 
all  others  necessary  ;  and  the  world  is  one,  like  the  human 
body.  Each  part  of  the  world  is  imperfect,  because  its 
complement  and  the  rest  of  its  being  is  in  the  others,  and 
thus  is  the  All  perfect.  Those  who  deny  that  such  a  God 

1  Greard,  p.  177  :  "  Is  it  possible  to  establish  a  reasonable 
mysticism  or  Pantheism  ?  .  .  .  How  is  the  heart  to  be  fed  without 
lying  to  Reason  ?  Octave  has  often  asked  me  that  question.  No, 
say  I,  there  is  a  scientific  mysticism.  .  .  .  Nature  tends  towards 
the  Good,  which  is  the  development  of  her  order.  .  .  ." 

122 


PROFESSORSHIP 

can  be  worshipped  are  ignorant  of  the  enchantments  of 
science.  The  man  who,  on  studying  the  laws  of  Mind  and 
of  Matter,  realizes  that  they  all  hold  in  one  unique  law 
— which  is  that  the  Being  tends  to  exist — who  sees  this 
inward  necessity,  like  a  universal  soul,  organizing  star 
systems,  establishing  the  blood  current  in  an  animal's 
veins,  leading  the  mind  towards  the  contemplation  of  the 
infinite — who  sees  the  whole  world  emerge,  living  and 
magnificent,  from  a  unique  and  eternal  principle — this 
man  experiences  a  deeper  joy  and  admiration  than  the 
bigot  kneeling  before  a  magnified  Man  :  each  object  that 
the  Christian  sees  reminds  him  of  its  architect ;  each  object 
shows  us  the  universal  Law  and  Soul  which  moves  all .  Which 
is  best,  when  gazing  at  a  landscape,  to  think  of  a  great 
gardener's  talent,  or  to  gaze  upon  a  living  Being,  resting 
and  developing,  and  stirring  all  the  sympathies  within  our 
hearts  ? 

What  lovely  fireside  talks  we  should  have,  if  only  you  were 
here,  my  dear  fellow  !  But  you  are  far  away,  and  you  are 
the  only  person  in  the  world  with  whom  I  can  talk  of  these 
things.  I  too  converse  with  you  though  absent.  Whilst 
I  gave  you  Spinoza,  you  gave  me  Burdach  and  Geoffrey 
St.  Hilaire.  I  was  becoming  a  naturalist  and  you  a  meta- 
physician, and  now  we  are  one  and  the  same  mind.  Do 
not  fear  lest  I  should  weaken.  We  will  fence  together  if 
we  are  alone  ;  I  am  preparing  all  sorts  of  weapons.  My 
first  bout  will  be  in  psychology.  There  are  some  admirable 
things  to  say  about  the  sensations,  the  movements,  the 
generation  of  passions,  and  against  the  vision  of  God  and 
the  separation  of  the  soul  from  the  body.  There  is  a  whole 
series  of  explanations  to  be  substituted  to  final  causes. 

123 


LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF  H.  TAINE 

Nature,  which,  in  producing  individuals,  isolates  one 
portion  of  Matter  from  the  others,  re-establishes  unity  by 
the  constitution  of  the  senses.  The  eye,  intended  for  light, 
exists  but  for  light,  in  the  same  way  as  the  liver  exists 
but  for  the  stomach  and  is  organized  but  to  dissolve  food. 
This  relation  constitutes  its  being,  and,  as  the  two  terms 
must  be  assembled  in  one  in  order  to  conceive  a  relation, 
the  eye  and  the  light  can  only  be  conceived  by  assembling 
in  a  superior  unity  Nature  and  the  living  man.  Above  the 
senses  is  Thought,  which  itself  only  exists  by  its  relation 
with  its  object,  whose  object  is  the  All,  and  which  thus 
establishes  the  unity  of  the  whole  of  Nature.  The  Being, 
indetermined  and  multiple  at  first,  afterwards  becomes 
determined  by  isolated  individuals,  and  finally  acquires 
its  highest  determination  by  assembling  its  isolated  indi- 
viduals into  one  universal  unity.  See  how  far  psychology 
can  take  us ! 

Of  news  I  have  none.  Suckau  has  written  to  me  ;  his 
mother  is  staying  with  him,  and  he  is  very  happy  ;  he 
consults  me  as  to  a  subject  for  his  thesis.  Edmond  has 
also  written,  asking  me  to  wake  him  up  ;  he  is  in  a  world 
of  pleasure,  and  cannot  drag  his  feet  out  of  the  mire.  His 
senses  are  too  acute  and  his  mind  too  brilliant ;  he  yearns 
too  much  for  enjoyment  and  for  show.  But  what  a  strong 
man,  if  he  only  would  !  !  See  him,  and  make  a  fighter  of 
him.  I  can  well  understand  that  you  are  not  attracted 
towards  him  ;  you  both  are  charged  with  positive  elec- 
tricity, and  you  repel  each  other.  Edouard,  Sarcey,  and 
I,  who  are  quieter,  attract  you,  our  electricity  is  negative. 
Is  it  not  his  delightful  gentleness  which  makes  you  love 
Edouard  ?  But,  I  repeat,  do  see  something  of  Edmond. 

124 


PROFESSORSHIP 

He  is  not  at  heart  a  "sensuous  egotist" — his  force  is  capable 
of  exerting  itself  in  any  direction,  and  is  now  directed  in 
that  particular  way ;  but  he  is  capable  of  directing  it 
otherwise.  I  have  seen  him  study  Plato  and  Aristotle 
for  a  month  at  a  time ;  the  pleasure  of  beating  the  Catholics 
would  make  him  a  Benedictine  monk  for  six  months. 
He  is  especially  militant  and  active  ;  things  should  be 
presented  to  him  from  that  point  of  view.  Besides,  he  is 
too  proud  to  resign  himself  to  being  merely  a  witty  man. 
And  my  poor  Planat  ?  I  have  no  answer  from  him. 
You  know  that  at  heart  he  is  saddened  by  his  precarious 
position,  which  forces  him  to  put  aside  Philosophy  and 
the  things  of  the  mind.  He,  at  least,  would  have  made  a 
good  soldier.  Tell  me  how  he  is,  or  tell  him  to  write  to 
me  ;  he  is  the  third  member  of  our  old  Bourbon  trio  ;  do 
go  and  look  him  up  !  ! 

Have  the  candidates  to  the  Ecole  been  sorted  that  it 
is  thus  poisoned  ?  Is  Lachelier,  the  first  year  head  student, 
a  Huguenot  ?  How  comical  that  the  most  heretical  of 
heretics  should  lead  other  heretics  !  The  N.  party  will 
revive ! ! 

Crousle  is  rather  well  disposed  ;  you  must  sow  the  good 
seed  in  his  mind  ;  our  influence  is  very  small  at  present. 

Good-bye,  old  fellow  ;  did  you  hurry  the  bookseller  of 
the  Rue  Richelieu  ? — he  has  not  sent  my  German  books. 
Those  I  have  are  splendid  ;  I  am  glad  I  thought  of  learning 
German.  The  source  of  Burdach  and  Geoffroy  St.  Hilaire 
is  there.  Hegel  is  a  Spinoza  multiplied  by  Aristotle.  It 
is  very  different  from  the  ridiculous  metaphysics  with 
which  we  were  nourished. 


125 


LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF  H.  TAINE 

To  his  MotJier. 

November  18,  1851. 

Are  you  forgetting  me,  dear  mother,  that  you  do  not 
answer  me  ?  or  have  you  no  time  to  yourself  that  I  never 
see  your  handwriting  ?  My  own  time  is  entirely  taken  up  : 
what  with  classes,  essays  I  have  begun,  and  my  correspond- 
ence, I  do  not  know  which  way  to  turn.  But  I  have  an 
hour  to  myself,  and  I  want  to  have  a  chat  with  you.  It 
is  class  time  ;  I  am  at  my  desk,  and  my  pupils  are  writing  ; 
I  can  hear  nothing  but  the  scratching  of  their  pens. 

I  have  no  news  ;  I  would  not  call  news  an  evening  spent 
at  the  Principal's,  where  I  played  the  piano  a  little  and 
bored  myself  a  great  deal.  The  ladies  are  affected  ;  every- 
body plays  whist  or  talks  scandal  about  people  I  do  not 
know  ;  I  am  more  comfortable  at  my  own  fireside. 

I  love  my  fireside  ;  on  Sunday  and  Thursday  evenings 
I  really  enjoy  myself.  I  bring  up  an  arm-chair,  put  on  a 
big  dressing-gown,  light  a  cigarette,  and,  taking  a  library 
book,  Don  Quixote,  Rabelais,  or  La  Fontaine,  indulge  in 
delightful  dreams,  gazing  on  the  sparkling  fire  and  the 
sinuous  tobacco  smoke,  listening  to  the  rumbling  of  car- 
riages, and  thinking  of  our  Paris  evenings.  I  am  now  an 
artist  in  coffee  making,  and  I  have  a  special  talent  for 
lighting  fires — my  education  is  complete. 

It  seems  as  if  I  had  not  left  the  Capital  (as  they  call  it 
here).  I  constantly  meet  people  who  have  just  returned 
from  Paris  ;  my  fellow  boarders  have  all  lived  there.  My 
life  is  almost  the  same,  with  freedom  besides.  Sometimes 
I  go  out  into  the  country.  It  is  flat — the  mountains  only 
begin  five  or  six  leagues  away  ;  but  I  think  that  the  wide 

126 


PROFESSORSHIP 

horizons  and  monotonous  meadows  are  not  without  some 
charm. 

The  town  is  on  the  right  bank  of  the  Loire,  against  a 
hill ;  the  streets  are  steep  and  narrow.  But  many  of  the 
houses  are  of  an  antique  and  original  build,  which  I  like, 
and  some  old  towers  and  feudal  gates  prevent  one  from 
noticing  modern  stone  and  plaster.  There  is  a  library,  a 
poor  one,  but  my  own  books  suffice  me.  Above  the  town 
is  a  sort  of  public  park  with  fine  trees  and  grass,  from  which 
there  is  a  nice  view.  Snow  and  rain  are  coming  now,  and 
I  shall  not  enjoy  all  this  till  the  summer.  But  I  have  not 
a  dull  moment ;  my  time  is  so  full  that  I  do  not  notice 
its  flight.  You  used  to  be  sorry  sometimes  to  see  me  work 
so  hard  ;  why,  it  is  the  only  amusement,  the  greatest 
pleasure. 

At  our  table  are  six  men  and  three  dogs  ;  some  day  I 
will  tell  you  about  the  habits  of  all  the  nine.  The  pro- 
fessors I  have  seen  make  a  lot  of  money  with  private  lessons, 
for  which  they  charge  highly.  The  aristocracy  pay  big 
prices  for  lessons  to  their  daughters.  I  could  have  some 
private  pupils  if  I  liked.  But  ugh  !  Professors  here  are 
like  grocers  or  pork  butchers — they  sell  their  wares  during 
thirty  years  and  then  buy  a  house  with  their  savings  and 
retire  !  Of  ambition,  pride,  mind  or  soul,  they  have  none. 
They  are  wound-up  speaking  automatons,  who  speak  as 
long  as  their  larynx  is  not  worn  out. 

Here  is  the  scheme  of  study  that  Sophie  asked  me  for : 

Write  an  epitome  of  your  author.  Write  an  epitome 
of  your  epitome.  Sum  up  your  second  epitome  in  four 
or  five  lines. 


127 


LIFE   AND   LETTERS   OF   H.   TAINE 

To  N.1 

November  22,  1851. 

Am  I  of  so  little  account  to  you  that  you  have  no  con- 
fidence in  me,  and  that  you  only  tell  me  of  your  trouble 
after  I  have  heard  of  it  through  another  ?  I  cannot  tell 
you,  my  dear  boy,  how  distressed  I  am  to  hear  such  news  ; 
I  am  sorry  to  be  so  far  away,  not  to  know  exactly  what 
your  sorrow  is,  not  to  be  able  to  console  you,  to  cure  you, 
if  possible  !  I  must  be  a  poor  master,  and  I  must  have 
let  your  judgment  go  very  wrong  for  you  to  suffer  from 
such  mad  terrors  ?  Think  of  me,  show  me  that  you 
care  for  me ;  you  have  told  me  a  hundred  times  that 
you  do  ;  will  you  not  prove  it  ?  Anyhow,  let  us  reason 
together ;  we  ought  to  have  done  so  sooner.  I  do 
not  know  what  vows  and  oaths  or  what  scruples  are 
in  question ;  tell  me,  that  I  may  answer  you.  But 
be  they  what  they  may,  your  alarms  come  from  a  false 
idea  that  you  have  conceived  of  God.  Fears  of  Him  ? 
Engagements  taken  towards  Him  ?  True  religion  does 
not  represent  Him  like  an  exacting  creditor,  ready  to 
prosecute  you  if  you  fail  in  one  point  of  an  imaginary 
promise.  He  does  not  want  promises,  do  not  make  Him 

1  It  has  been  seen  with  what  passion  M.  Taine  led  his  philosophical 
crusade  amongst  his  comrades  at  the  Ecole^  It  is  interesting  to 
show  how  much,  on  the  other  hand,  he  respected  the  religious 
beliefs  of  his  friends,  even  when  they  were  tainted  with  exaggeration.* 
A  youth  of  his  acquaintance  had  become  a  prey  to  mysticism,  and 
indulged  in  practices  which  had  compromised  his  health  and 
shaken  the  balance  of  his  mind.  His  alarmed  parents,  knowing 
his  admiration  for  M.  Taine,  begged  the  latter  to  intervene.  The 
above  is  a  fragment  of  a  letter  written  by  him  in  these  delicate 
circumstances. 

128 


PROFESSORSHIP 

any ;  it  is  treating  Him  as  a  man,  as  an  equal,  it  is  de- 
basing and  degrading  Him.  The  only  oath  due  to  Him  is 
the  promise  of  never  committing  a  bad  action,  and  of 
always  keeping  one's  dignity,  probity  and  honour.  And 
you  know  well  that  you  have  never  failed  to  keep  that 
oath.  Can  you  make  other  engagements  when  you  imagine 
Him  as  He  is,  that  is,  as  an  Infinite,  Eternal,  and  Perfect 
Being,  ever  producing  the  world  and  necessarily  raising 
it  to  a  better  state  ?  Do  you  not  feel  it  ridiculous  to  go 
and  swear  to  Him  some  little  thing,  some  small  practice, 
abstinence,  mortification,  or  I  know  not  what  mean, 
unworthy  thing  ?  Do  you  perchance  take  Him  for  a 
Director  of  nuns,  a  visible  dispensator  of  Paters  and  Aves, 
a  salaried  auditor  of  lists  of  venial  sins  ?  You  must  think 
higher  things  of  Him  ;  you  can  never  believe  anything 
too  great,  anything  too  magnificent  of  Him.  Think  of 
that  great  movement  of  History,  of  that  series  of  peoples 
who,  in  all  quarters  of  the  globe,  have  concurred  to  form 
a  unique  civilization,  and  to  bring  Man  to  his  present 
point  of  perfection.  Think  of  that  unceasing  formation 
of  Worlds  in  Space,  gradually  peopled  with  living  creatures 
and  forming  a  divine  chorus  of  beings  ever  more  perfect 
and  more  beautiful !  His  action  is  there.  Is  not  that  what 
we  have  talked  about  a  hundred  times  ?  And  ask  yourself, 
now,  if  your  scruples  are  aught  but  derision.  He  governs 
all,  and  He  acts  within  each  one  of  us  ;  but  He  acts  by 
the  inner  movement,  which  turns  us  towards  what  is  good, 
which  forbids  us  ever  doing  anything  dishonest,  which 
makes  us  find  our  happiness  in  the  perfection  of  others 
and  in  our  own.  You  have  never  disregarded  that  sacred 
instinct  which  is  His  voice  ;  you  have  therefore  never 

129  K 


LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF  H.  TAINE 

disobeyed  Him,  and  you  have  nothing  to  fear.  Note  that 
I  speak  as  the  greatest  of  the  Fathers  of  the  Church  would 
have  spoken.  You  know  that  I  have  always  respected 
your  beliefs,  even  in  the  points  wherein  they  differed  from 
my  own.  I  respect  them  still ;  it  is  not  from  Christianity 
that  I  seek  to  turn  you,  but  from  Impiety.  To  debase  God 
is  Impiety.  The  religion  I  am  now  showing  you  is  that  of 
Fenelon,  of  St.  Clement,  of  St.  Athanasius  ;  it  is  that  of 
all  noble  souls.  Do  not  prefer  to  it  I  know  not  what  bigoted 
mysticism,  what  puerile  superstition,  hardly  worthy  of  a 
peasant  who  has  become  a  Capuchin  or  of  some  poor  girl 
taken  in  her  ignorance  from  the  fields  to  the  cloister. 
Religion,  though  one,  differs  with  different  minds.  Some 
interpret  it  well,  and  on  it  feed  generous  feelings,  exalted 
hopes,  great  thoughts.  Others  falsify  it  and  make  of  it 
a  combination  of  kneeling,  processions,  penances,  vows, 
ridiculous  practices,  tending  to  destroy  health,  to  injure 
the  intelligence,  and  to  banish  peace  of  mind.  Religion, 
like  all  great  things,  should  result  in  doing  good  ;  judge 
of  your  religion  by  the  harm  it  has  done  you. 

To  Edouard  de  Suckau. 

November  23,  1851. 

DEAR  ED., — I  have  written  such  innumerable  letters 
since  I  have  been  here  that  you  must  excuse  my  delay. 
I  am  far  from  feeling  a  blank,  like  you,  old  fellow  ;  the 
truth  is  that  I  hardly  know  which  way  to  turn.  I  began 
by  undertaking  a  mass  of  work,  so  as  to  be  sure  to  avoid 
ennui,  that  uncomfortable  guest.  I  think  I  have  avoided 
it  too  well.  Still,  everything  is  all  right,  my  health  as 
well  as  my  researches.  I  find  all  the  more  pleasure  in  my 

130 


PROFESSORSHIP 

lonely  Sunday  and  Thursday  evenings,  allowing  my 
memories  and  my  hopes  to  trot  round  my  brain,  caval- 
cading,  as  you  know,  through  the  Possible  and  the  Im- 
possible. What  a  good  thing  it  is  to  have  a  home  of  one's 
own  !  Call  me  landlord  if  you  like  !  The  fact  is  that 
with  a  fire,  a  piano,  books,  and  some  tobacco,  ennui  de- 
parts, and  company  is  unnecessary.  Music,  as  Luther 
used  to  say,  is  the  finest  thing  in  the  world  after  Theology. 
And  the  crackling  of  the  flame,  the  blue  and  sinuous 
clouds  of  cigarette  smoke  !  The  most  Oriental,  the  most 
fantastic  imaginations  dance  before  my  eyes.  Why  are 
you  not  here,  dreaming  with  me,  comfortably  ensconced 
in  an  arm-chair  ?  I  assure  you  I  have  a  remarkable  talent 
for  making  coffee  ;  it  is  inborn  in  my  family.  My  late 
grandfather,  whose  books  and  notes  I  have  here,  spent 
his  later  years  in  smoking,  philosophizing,  and  making 
coffee.  You  really  should  be  here,  dear  brother  !  Do,  do 
come  for  Ne\7  Year's  Day,  if  you  can  ;  I  dare  not  hope 
to  see  Madame  de  Suckau  (Ed.  de  S.'s  mother) ;  I  am 
afraid  she  will  not  be  with  you  long  enough.  But  when 
you  are  alone  !  I  shall  burn  candles  before  the  Holy 
Virgin  to  make  you  come. 

No  news  to  tell  you  about  myself.  I  see  nobody ;  I 
have  twice  had  some  music  at  Mme.  la  Principale's.  I 
have  no  wish  to  see  any  of  my  colleagues.  I  wrote  a  polite 
letter  to  M.  Jules  Simon,  who  answered  in  a  kindly 
manner. 

My  pupils  work  and  understand.  I  shall  give  them  a 
five  months'  course  of  Psychology. 

My  class  takes  me  an  hour  and  a  half  every  morning  on 
the  average.  I  have  seven  hours  for  myself,  plus  Sundays 

131 


LIFE    AND   LETTERS    OF   H.    TAINE 

and  Thursdays  ;  I  have  to  give  that  time  to  my  class, 
because  I  write  an  analysis  of  each  lesson,  which  I  dictate 
to  them,  and  which  they  can  use  for  their  reports,  finding 
in  it  the  exact  formulae.1  I  advise  you  to  do  the  same 
thing ;  it  is  a  very  good  system.  They  see  the  same  sub- 
ject four  times  —  1°  they  hear  the  lesson;  2°  they  write 
a  report  on  it ;  3°  they  have  those  reports  read  and 
corrected  in  the  class  ;  4°  I  make  them  argue  on  the 
subject  of  the  previous  lessons,  one  of  them  expounding, 
and  the  other  correcting  the  first  when  he  goes  wrong.  I 
shall  take  all  those  analyses  to  Paris  and  make  use  of  them 
for  my  agregation.  But  do  you  know,  I  am  a  little  afraid 
that  all  this  work  may  harm  me.  My  personal  observa- 
tions lead  me  every  day  to  more  settled  theories,  more 
original  formulae.  The  more  I  live,  the  more  I  am  be- 
coming myself.  Can  I  don  the  official  skin  if  necessary  ? 
The  tips  of  my  ears  will  appear  more  distinctly  every  year, 
and  Donkey-boy  Portalis  will  beat  the  ass  back  to  the  mill. 
Add  to  that  the  remembrance  of  last  year,  prejudices 
which  I  shall  have  to  overcome  next  year.  Well,  one  more 
trial !  If  I  perish,  we  will  consult  together  as  to  whether 
I  should  try  for  literature.  I  was  thinking  about  it  a 
month  ago.  It  is  the  approach  of  the  new  year,  and  the 
probable  chance  of  a  new  jury,  which  decided  me. 

I  am  reading  Hegel's  Logic.2    It  is  an  analysis  of  the 

1  See  Appendix  III.,  the  syllabus  of  this  course. 

2  The  notes  on  the  Logic  fill  130  pages.     M.  Taine  had  thought  of 
it  as  a  subject  for  a  thesis.     The  following  are  fragments  from  them  : 

"  Points  to  be  treated — 

"  1,  Object  of  Metaphysic  ;  2,  Possibility  ;  3,  Method  ;  4,  Utility  ; 
5,  Exposition  and  Criticism  of  Hegel's  principal  definitions  (En- 
cydopCEdia). 

132 


PROFESSORSHIP 

principal  possible  modes  of  being ;  the  definitions  are  ar- 
ranged in  order,  and  one  engenders  the  other.  It  is,  with 
that  of  Aristotle,  the  only  Metaphysic  that  exists.  I  am 
pretty  forward  with  a  work  on  Sensations,  and  make  most 
curious  discoveries.  Our  Ecole,  really  spiritualistic  at 
bottom,  neglected  this  point,  which  might  harm  it,  showing, 
as  it  does,  the  relations  between  the  soul  and  the  body. 
Note  that  it  comprises  the  interior  central  sensations,  or 
Images,  conscious  objects  in  all  the  superior  operations  of 
the  mind.  They  are  endowed  with  particular  forces  and 
relationships,  which  no  one  has  studied.  That  is  my 
world,  and  I  join  you  there,  since  we  tackled  all  this  to- 
gether ;  psychology  is  our  rendezvous.  Will  you,  like  me, 
write  a  historical  Theodicea  ?  Dear  friend,  what  happiness 
it  would  be  to  be  united  in  our  beliefs,  as  in  our  sentiments  ! 
I  must  own  that  the  more  I  consider  the  official  God,  the 
more  he  seems  to  me  a  man,  a  king,  and  the  more  unsatis- 
factory I  find  him.  What  an  admirable  saying  that  is  of 
Rabelais'  :  "  There  is  a  sphere  of  infinite  intelligence,  the 


"  To  seek  theoretically :  I.  What  should  be  the  elements  of 
Metaphysical  expressions — 1,  The  unique  abstract  Being  (the  Being 
plus  the  negation) ;  2,  the  number  of  abstractions  ;  3,  the  mode  of 
junction  of  the  abstractions.  II.  If  the  three  only  possible  ones 
are  not :  1,  Extension  ;  the  Being  determined  purely  by  quantity ; 
2,  Life,  production  by  differential  negations  of  isolated  units  within 
this  non-unit ;  3,  Thought,  or  the  suppression  of  the  above  multi- 
plicity and  differences." 

Another  undated  plan  divides  the  work  into  four  parts  :  "  1, 
Object  of  Metaphysics  or  Logic  ;  2,  Exposition  of  the  work  in 
the  shape  of  a  classification  ;  3,  Exposition  of  the  work  in  his- 
torical shape  ;  4,  Criticism."  M.  Taine  also  wrote  70  pages  about 
Hegel,  arranged  on  a  different  plan,  and  equally  undated. 

133 


LIFE   AND   LETTERS   OF   H.   TAINE 

centre  of  which  is  everywhere  and  the  circumference  no- 
where." Pascal  plagiarized  it  and  spoilt  it. 

Memory,  your  thesis  subject,  seems  to  me  beautiful 
and  wide.  I  do  not  like  the  other  so  much.1  It  is  too 
extensive,  the  Latin  is  unworthy  of  it.  Take  some- 
thing historical,  some  misunderstood  point  in  a  philosopher. 
I  have  studied  Memory  a  little  ;  you  can  have  anything  of 
mine  that  you  like.  Tell  me  what  you  find. 

Remember  me  to  Libert.  Edmond  has  answered  my 
letter  ;  he  cannot  tear  himself  from  his  life  of  pleasure. 

Good-bye,  my  Ed.  I  commend  you  to  the  real  God. 
Anatole  has  written  me  a  magnificent  letter2  concerning 
Him. 

To  his  Mother. 

December  5,  1851. 

I  have  written  to  M.  N.,  who  has  answered  by  an  affection- 
ate but  masterful  letter.  I  had,  for  want  of  anything  better 
to  say,  amused  myself  by  sending  him  some  epigrams 
against  the  amiable  people  who  have  stuck  me  in  this  hole. 
I  was  counting  on  his  quality  of  a  heretic  and  a  railer  to 
excuse  me,  but  it  seems  that  every  man  about  the  age  of 
forty  becomes  indifferent ;  the  least  joke  frightens  a  well- 
established  bourgeois  ;  if  it  is  against  the  powers  that  be, 
it  exhales  the  scent  of  powder  and  shot.  He  advises  me 
to  eschew  violence  and  insults,  to  fight  the  enemy  with 
honourable  and  chivalrous  (!)  weapons  only,  and  to  beware 
of  treachery  and  poisoned  arrows.  He  reproaches  me  with 
having  begun  the  battle  against  the  clergy  without  remorse 

1  M.  de  Suckau  was  thinking  of  writing  a  Latin  thesis  on  "  Law." 

2  Gr^ard,  p.  177. 

134 


PROFESSORSHIP 

and  without  respect,  and  so  on.  He  seems  to  look  upon 
me  as  upon  a  sort  of  infernal  machine  ready  to  burst, 
and  implores  me  not  to  set  fire  to  the  wick.  I  who  am  the 
most  lamb-like  of  lambs,  the  most  sedentary  of  bears,  the 
most  cloistered  of  dormice  !  !  Whoever  lives  and  thinks 
a  little  frightens  those  who  are  dead  to  thought. 

You  know  the  political  news.  I  have  seen  people  just 
returned  from  Paris  ;  the  troops  are  for  M.  Bonaparte, 
the  dissolved  Assemblee  is  unpopular,  every  one  is  quiet. 
It  is  evident  that  he  will  take  Royal  power  with  Republican 
forms.  Country  people  favour  him  ;  the  Democrats  have 
been  persecuted  and  overwhelmed  for  the  last  two  years  ; 
no  one  will  move.  We  shall  have  some  years  of  it.  France 
has  for  the  last  sixty  years  been  swinging  like  a  pendulum 
from  Monarchy  to  Republic,  from  liberty  to  authority  ; 
it  will  go  on  a  good  deal  longer.  We  are  too  Democratic, 
and  yet  not  enough  so,  to  put  up  with  the  one  or  the  other, 
but  liberal  ideas  are  sinking  deeper  and  more  firmly  every 
day.  After  seven  or  eight  revolutions  they  will  prevail. 
After  last  century's  Monarchy-sickness,  this  century  finds 
us  convalescent,  but  with  relapses,  and  it  is  only  in  the 
next  that  we  shall  recover  our  health.  We  must  get  used 
to  it,  and  have  patience  ;  our  children  will  be  happier 
than  we. 

The  Rector  and  the  Principal  heard  me  lecture  yesterday, 
and  the  Rector  was  most  complimentary  about  it. 

I  live  very  much  alone  ;  my  fire,  my  books,  and  my 
piano  amuse  me  when  my  head  aches  with  work. 

There  is  a  library  here,  where  I  find  a  few  history  books  ; 
on  Sunday  and  Thursday  evenings  I  read  over  those  I 
have  brought.  I  am  told  that  the  theatre  is  bad.  The 

135 


LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF  H.  TAINE 

posters  show  that  they  chiefly  play  maudlin  and  blood- 
curdling dramas  ;  I  do  not  go,  it  would  only  sicken  me. 

Our  year  at  the  Ecole  was  the  last  of  sound  thought. 
My  friends  write  that  the  newcomers  are  all  clericals  ;  the 
sanctuary  itself  is  invaded  now. 

For  my  part  I  am  happy,  except  for  a  few  inevitable 
troubles.  I  have  nothing  to  wish  for.  I  am  engaged  in 
noble  and  exalted  occupations,  I  am  increasing  my  store 
of  knowledge  ;  I  live  with  Science,  the  greatest  Science. 
I  have  good  health,  friends,  enough  money,  few  needs. 
What  more  do  I  want  but  to  see  you  ? 

To  Edouard  de  Suckau. 

Deceiriber  9,  1851. 

DEAR  ED., — It  was  a  priori  certain  that  we  should  all 
think  alike.  It  was  thought  at  first  that  the  ballot  would 
be  public,  and  that  whoever  refused  to  acquiesce  would  be 
discharged.  I  had  quite  decided  to  go  and  give  private 
lessons  in  Paris.  Or  else  you  and  I  (considering  our  purity 
of  living)  might  have  founded  a  Young  Ladies'  College  ! 
But  all  these  fine  projects  are  fallen,  since  the  ballot  is 
secret. 

No  protest  allowed  !  We  are  atoms  ;  we  should  be  as 
ridiculous  as  the  Carpentras  townsmen  marching  on  Paris ! 

Great  bodies  and  great  personages  alone  can  protest. 
But  we  need  not  submit  or  give  our  adhesion  if  it  is  asked 
for ;  we  can  vote  rightly  as  all  men  of  honour  will  do. 
That  will  be  my  conduct,  and  yours  also  I  think. 

The  same  mean  cowardice  appears  at  Nevers  as  at  St. 
Etienne.  I  have  seen  and  heard  people,  who  used  to  abuse 
and  insult  M.  Bonaparte,  now  say  openly  that  they  would 

136 


PROFESSORSHIP 

vote  for  him  because  otherwise  they  might  lose  their 
situations,  owning  to  a  similar  rule  for  their  general  con- 
duct. Stupidity,  violence,  ignorance  and  cowardice  are 
the  ingredients  which  the  Creator  mixed  together  when 
manufacturing  the  human  race. 

The  mob  has  taken  Clamecy,  a  little  town  fifteen  leagues 
from  here  ;  they  burnt  and  pillaged  the  place  and  mur- 
dered some  gendarmes.  Some  regiments  have  arrived  from 
Paris,  with  guns ;  it  will  be  a  butchery.  What  an  ugly 
thing  is  politics  !  People  in  high  places  steal  public  liberty, 
shoot  down  four  or  five  thousand  men  and  perjure  them- 
selves ;  the  lower  classes,  their  adversaries,  steal  private 
property  and  cut  throats.  I  would  rather  lose  my  right 
hand  than  give  it  to  either  ;  I  dare  wish  success  to  neither 
side.  Which  is  best,  a  Presidency  a  la  Russe  or  the  Jac- 
querie of  the  secret  societies  ?  The  victory  of  the  people 
might  mean  pillaging  and  certainly  civil  war.  They 
would  attain  power  whilst  full  of  fury  and  cupidity,  but 
without  a  single  idea  to  guide  them,  or  else  being  divided 
between  four  or  five  absurd  or  discredited  systems.  I  can 
but  wish  for  the  triumph  of  an  idea,  and  on  either  side  I  see 
but  contempt  of  Right  and  brutal  violence.  M.  Bonaparte 
is  not  worse  than  the  rest.  The  Assemblee  hated  the 
Republic  more  than  he  does,  and  would,  like  him,  have 
violated  oaths  in  order  to  put  Henri  V  or  the  Orleans 
on  the  throne,  or  M.  Changarnier  in  power.  Do  you  think 
that  M.  Carvaignac  or  other  honest  men  have  any  authority 
in  France  ?  Right  is  nothing  ;  there  are  but  passions 
and  interests.  Dear  friend,  nothing  can  drag  us  from 
this  mire  save  Science,  Literature,  Education,  and  the  slow 
progress  of  ideas.  I  am  resigned  to  belong  to  no  party 

137 


LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF  H.  TAINE 

for  many  years,  to  detest  them  all,  to  ardently  wish  for  the 
advent  of  the  only  one  worth  following,  that  of  science  and 
honour.  In  the  meanwhile,  I  live  in  Philosophy.  Therein 
is  the  altar  and  the  sanctuary.  Edita  doctrina  sapientum 
templa  serena  :  there  you  and  I  can  meet  and  join  hands. 

Neither  Anatole  [Prevost-Paradol]  nor  any  of  the  others 
has  written  to  me.  Did  Edmond  keep  quiet  ?  Is  he 
really  off  to  Greece  ?  Nobody  writes  to  me  ;  the  buried 
Nivernais  is  forgotten.  The  Pantheon  has  just  been  given 
back  to  worship.  It  was  evident  from  the  first  day  that 
M.  Bonaparte  would  lean  on  the  clergy.  First,  in  memory 
of  his  uncle  ;  then  through  a  wish  to  have  the  support  of 
that  body,  the  last  powerful  one  left  in  France.  He  will 
lean  upon  everything  that  is  antagonistic  to  thought :  the 
brutal  discipline  of  the  Army,  the  selfishness  and  cowardice 
of  landlords,  the  legends  of  the  country,  the  clergy — that 
great  stifler.  The  epaulette  will  defend  the  cassock. 
Will  there  be  an  agregation  ?  If  so,  M.  Veuillot  will  pre- 
side. Dii  Bonii! f 

Write  to  me  ;  your  letter  was  but  six  lines  and  does 
not  count.  Ah  !  if  I  could  see  you  at  Christmas  !  Answer 
me  also  about  that. 

What  an  excitement  there  must  be  at  the  Ecole  !  Here 
every  one  is  dead  alive.  Dear  Ed.,  I  think  that  this 
power  will  become  firmer ;  the  longer  I  live,  the  more  I 
realize  that  ideas  are  not  yet  ripe.  Those  young  men 
who  are  Liberals  are  too  violent,  and  when  they  grow  older 
and  calmer  they  necessarily  turn  into  gendarmes.  Most 
of  them  deny  any  principles — say  that  Might  is  Right,  and 
that  Politics  need  only  consider  interests.  The  boldest 
say  this  ;  nearly  all  think  it.  We  who  have  lived 

138 


PROFESSORSHIP 

in  the  cloister  have  learnt  to  believe  in  ideas  and  to  love 

them. 

Yours. 

To  Prevost-Paradol. 

December  15,  1851. 

DEAR  FRIEND, — The  Nievre  is  quiet ;  Clamecy  and  five 
or  six  towns  which  had  taken  to  arms  have  been  reduced. 
There  has  been  a  good  deal  of  shooting ;  many  prisoners 
taken.  It  is  said  that  the  insurgents  murdered  and  pil- 
laged ;  our  proclamations  represent  them  as  brigands, 
not  as  Socialists.  How  much  truth  is  there  in  all  this  ? 
It  is  certain  that  the  department  was  ready  for  a  general 
rising.  Nevers  and  Moulins  were  well  guarded,  and  the 
thing  failed. 

Those  who  were  more  deeply  implicated  will  go  and 
civilize  Nouka-hiva.1  It  also  seems  certain  that  this 
country  is  full  of  secret  societies,  disciplined  to  passive 
obedience,  and  ready  to  fight  through  hatred  and  for  their 
own  interest,  rather  than  for  a  principle.  Edouard 
writes  that  at  St.  Etienne  there  is  a  similar  state  of  things. 

Between  the  knaves  above  and  the  knaves  below,  honest, 
thinking  people  will  find  themselves  crushed.  I  feel  too 
much  disgust  for  both  to  associate  with  either.  I  detest 
robbery  and  assassination,  whether  committed  by  the 
mob  or  by  the  authorities.  Perhaps  our  children,  more 
fortunate,  may  have  both  science  and  liberty  at  once. 

As  to  the  Government,  I  think  it  will  last.     It  has  the 

1  Thia  island  in  the  Pacific  had  in  1850  been  destined  by  the 
French  Government  to  receive  transported  convicts ;  the  idea 
was  abandoned  however. 

139 


LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF  H.  TAINE 

Army  with  it ;  it  has  already  made  advances  to  the  clergy  ; 
the  provinces  will  give  it  an  enormous  majority.  The 
trades  and  the  great  landowners  wish  for  nothing  better 
than  a  Russian  kind  of  State,  and  what  is  worse,  I  see  a 
number  of  young  men  who  think  likewise.  We  are  not 
the  outcome  of  a  century  of  ideas,  like  the  men  of  the 
French  Revolution.  Our  Philosophy,  an  illegitimate  off- 
spring of  Christianity,  is  nothing  outside  our  Schools,  and 
it  is  now  the  fashion  to  mock  at  principles  and  to  defy 
facts.  The  Socialistic  philosophers  have  invoked  as  a 
principle  Love,  which  was  a  good  thing  in  the  mystic 
times  of  Christ ;  they  have  attacked  the  independence 
and  the  divinity  of  the  individual,  which  is  contrary  to 
the  whole  modern  movement ;  they  have  preached  material 
comfort,  which  produces  Jacqueries,  but  not  Revolutions. 
I  therefore  see  nothing  that  can  stand  against  a  man 
supported  by  400,000  bayonets,  40,000  censers,  and  all 
the  old  country  legends.  If  he  is  not  stupid  he  will  observe 
a  happy  medium,  abstain  from  disturbing  established 
customs,  speak  of  his  love  for  the  people,  and  subsist  on 
that ;  he  will  perish,  but  only  when  a  doctrine  is  proved, 
preached,  accepted,  and  propagated  to  such  an  extent 
that  its  adepts  become  capable  of  seizing  power. 

Is  not  this  what  we  have  had  for  fifty  years  ?  Napo- 
leon, the  Bourbons,  Louis  Philippe,  M.  Louis  Bonaparte, 
are  but  compromises  born  of  circumstances.  The  Idea 
itself,  in  '89  and  in  '48  only  reigned  for  a  moment,  and  by 
accident.  It  will  only  reign  when  it  becomes  a  religion  for 
all ;  one  religion  is  not  quickly  substituted  for  another. 
What  recriminations  did  not  M.  Proud'hon  excite  when 
he  put  Man's  divinity  in  the  place  of  the  divinity  of  God ! 

140 


PROFESSORSHIP 

We  must  wait,  work  and  write.  We  alone,  as  Socrates 
said,  are  busy  with  true  politics,  i.e.  with  science.  The 
others  are  mere  clerks  or  tradesmen. 

Do  you  know  anything  of  Edmond  ?  He  does  not 
answer  me.  What  did  he  do  in  all  this  upset  ?  Is  he 
going  to  Greece  ?  And  Planat  ? 

Here,  my  dear  fellow,  I  see  nobody.  I  hear  and  pro- 
nounce words  in  conversation,  but  they  are  but  alternate 
sounds.  I  am  without  friends,  family,  museums,  theatres 
and  conversations,  and  my  life  is  somewhat  austere.  I 
do  not  eat  my  heart  out,  as  Homer  says,  but  I  am  some- 
times sad,  and  I  want  you.  Surrounded  with  the  dead, 
I  yearn  for  the  living. 

I  am  every  day  more  astonished  at  the  universal  numb- 
ness and  flatness.  I  did  meet  a  few  young  men,  but  I 
soon  dropped  them,  for  I  prefer  my  solitude  to  their 
company.  I  should  be  very  happy  if  I  could  have  one 
of  you  here  next  year.  Shall  I  ever  have  you  ?  No 
better  fortune  could  happen  to  me.  My  illusions  depart 
day  by  day  ;  stupidity,  coarseness,  a  want  of  honesty 
are  the  rule  ;  the  contrary  is  exceptional. 

I  am  reading  the  classics  again,  especially  Homer  and 
Marcus  Aurelius,  for  Hegel  makes  my  head  ache,  and  my 
own  psychological  researches  do  not  fatigue  me  much 
less.  I  now  and  then  allow  my  thoughts  to  drift  towards 
the  future  which  sometimes  seems  bright  and  sometimes 
dark.  Anyhow,  we  shall  have  done  our  duty. 

I  wrote  to  M.  Vacherot  without  being  sure  of  his  address  ; 
he  has  not  answered.  Did  he  get  my  letter  ? 

What  do  the  new  Catholic  arrivals  at  the  Ecole  say  ? 
Do  they  approve  of  the  Revolution  ? 

HI 


LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF  H.  TATNE 

Solitude  increases  friendship.  It  seems  to  me  that  I 
now  think  of  you  with  a  tenderer  recollection.  Why  does 
Planat  forget  me  thus  ?  Ideas  are  abstract ;  we  can  only 
reach  them  by  an  effort.  However  beautiful  they  may 
be,  they  are  not  enough  for  the  heart  of  man.  We  can 
no  longer  have  any  Love  properly  so  called.  Only  Friend- 
ship from  man  to  man  remains  ;  nothing  touches  me  more 
than  to  read  of  the  friendships  of  the  ancients*  Marcus 
Aurelius1  is  my  catechism  ;  read  it  over  again.  You  will 
find  ourselves  in  it. 

Good-bye,  old  fellow;  or,  as  they  say  in  Greek,  %aipe. 

To  the  same. 

December  19,  1851. 

Is  it  meant  for  a  reproach  ?  2 

But  then,  the  whole  Ecole  is  in  the  same  case  as  I  am, 
since  we  are  all  functionaries  by  the  same  title. 

Did  you  only  want  to  inform  me  of  a  noble  action  ?  3 

Very  well ;  observe,  however,  1°  that  a  professor  is  not 
a  prefet,  that  he  is  a  functionary  of  the  State,  not  of  the 
Government,  and  that  it  is  not  joining  the  latter  to  teach 
the  history  of  Sesostris  and  Darius.  M.  Thomas  might 

1  Marcus  Aurelius  was  M.  Taine's  bedside  book  until  his  last  days. 

*  Greard,  p.  181. 

3  PreVost-Paradol  had  copied  and  sent  to  M.  Taine  a  letter  which 
M.  Thomas,  a  professor  at  the  Versailles  lycte  had  sent  to  the  Nicole 
Normale  in  order  that  it  should  be  generally  read  in  the  University. 
M.  Thomas  had  just  sent  in  his  resignation,  and  was  about  to  ac- 
company the  Comte  d'Haussonville  into  Belgium.  In  Brussels  the 
two  edited  together  a  political  paper,  the  Bulletin  Fran^ais,  which 
was  clandestinely  introduced  into  France.  M.  d'Haussonville  re- 
turned to  Paris  in  1852,  but  M.  Thomas  remained  in  Belgium,  a 
voluntary  exile,  until  his  death,  in  1857, 

142 


PROFESSORSHIP 

have  preserved  his  honour  and  his  situation  at  the  same 
time.  2°  that  this  power,  as  yet  illegal,  will  be  legal 
within  a  week,  being  confirmed  by  six  million  suffrages. 
3°  that  M.  Thomas  is  the  political  editor  of  the  Revue  des 
Deux  Mondes,  and  that  his  article  of  December  1  con- 
tained a  violent  attack  against  Authority.  Is  his  resig- 
nation but  a  refuge  against  dismissal  ? 

I  am  making  ugly  suggestions,  am  I  not  ?  But,  in 
principle,  I  believe  that  the  species  Regulus  is  rare,  and 
only  to  be  dealt  with  theoretically. 

I  hold  by  my  last  letter  word  for  word  ;  I  will  give  no 
adhesion  to  an  action  which  I  look  upon  as  dishonest ;  but 
I  think  I  can  conscientiously  continue  to  teach  theories 
on  the  association  of  ideas  or  comparative  judgment. 

Be  frank,  and  answer  me  otherwise  than  by  another 
man's  letter.  Blame  me  if  you  like  ;  I  am  the  calmest  man 
on  earth,  and  we  will  discuss  your  blame  together. 

Not  a  word  from  Edmond  or  Planat  ? 

How  does  Planat  get  on  now  that  half  his  newspapers 
are  suppressed  ?  l 

Ever  yours,  nevertheless,  courtier  or  non-courtier,  as 
you  like. 

To  Mademoiselle  Virginie  Taine. 

December  18,  1851. 

You  may  read  Voltaire's  Charles  XII,  the  Siecle  de 
Louis  XIV,  and  the  Essai  sur  les  Moeurs  ;  they  are  his 
three  great  History  works.  If  you  want  to  laugh,  look 
out  in  the  index  Dr.  Akakia's  diatribe. 

1  Emile  Planat,  under  the  name  of  Marcelin,  drew  caricatures 
for  the  Otarivari  and  other  illustrated  papers. 

143 


LIFE   AND   LETTERS   OF   H.   TAINE 

Though  you  do  not  read  politics,  you  know  that  M.  Bona- 
parte, violating  his  oath,  has  confiscated  public  liberties, 
and  caused  the  defenders  of  liberty  to  be  put  to  death. 
Our  rector  (a  priest !)  sent  us  two  days  ago  the  following 
circular  :  "  The  undersigned,  functionaries  of  Public  Edu- 
cation at  Nevers,  declare  that  they  adhere  to  the  measures 
taken  on  December  2  by  M.  le  President  de  la  Republlque, 
and  offer  him  the  expression  of  their  gratitude  and  respectful 
devotion."  I  refused  to  sign.  Entrusted  as  I  am  with 
teaching  respect  to  law,  fidelity  to  oaths,  and  the  cult  of 
the  eternal  Right,  I  should  have  been  ashamed  to  approve 
of  perjury,  usurpation  and  assassination.  I  would  refuse 
again  if  the  occasion  arose  again,  and  I  am  sure  that  you 
would  all  have  done  likewise. 

My  refusal  is  less  dangerous  to  me,  however,  than  I 
thought  it  would  be.  The  rector,  though  weak,  is  kind 
and  honest.  He  got  the  signature  of  the  Philosophy 
Professor  who  is  ill  and  on  leave,  and  whose  work  I  am 
doing,  and  sent  the  list  without  mentioning  my  refusal. 
I  talked  it  over  with  him,  and  I  think  he  really  considers 
that  I  alone  have  done  my  duty. 

All  my  friends  decided  to  do  likewise.  Mme.  N.,  urging 
her  son  not  to  risk  his  situation,  but  to  submit  to  every- 
thing. Is  it  a  mother's  part  to  be  more  careful  of  her 
son's  interest  than  of  his  honour  ?  Others  have  done 
more  and  better  than  I ;  read  the  enclosed  copy  of  a  letter 
written  by  a  Versailles  professor  to  the  Minister. 

Otherwise,  I  am  extremely  prudent ;  the  rector  tells 
me  that  neither  my  class  nor  my  conduct  has  given  cause 
for  the  least  complaint.  I  hold  my  peace,  and  I  do  every- 
thing which  is  compatible  with  honour,  but  nothing 

144 


PROFESSORSHIP 

more.  Don't  let  my  mother  be  alarmed  ;  my  honour  is 
intact,  and  the  rector  himself  does  not  think  my  post  is 
jeopardized.  Let  us  talk  of  less  serious  things.  I  am 
reading  Clarissa  Harlowe  at  the  library ;  it  rests  me  a 
little  from  metaphysics.  I  tried  to  get  to  know  a  young 
painter,  but  it  turned  out  that  his  greatest  pleasure  con- 
sists in  painting  his  dog,  his  sauce-pans,  his  stove,  etc., 
life-size,  like  the  sign  of  an  inn.  All  my  efforts  at  making 
acquaintances  come  to  an  untimely  end  in  the  same  manner, 
and  I  am  thrown  back  on  myself.  I  live  by  my  fireside  ;  on 
Sundays  and  Thursdays  I  take  a  delicious  rest  between  a 
cup  of  coffee  and  a  cigarette  ;  my  studies  are  so  fatiguing 
that  I  feel  I  never  really  appreciated  rest  before.  For  the 
last  month  the  sky  has  been  a  mist  and  the  earth  a  puddle, 
but  yesterday  sunshine  and  frost  appeared,  and  I  tramped 
out  into  the  country,  my  heart  gladdened  by  the  sight  of 
the  great  horizon  and  the  beautiful,  divine  light.  How 
often  in  the  streets  at  night  have  I  admired  the  deep  shadows, 
and  thought  of  Rembrandt  and  of  you.  If  we  were  to- 
gether, we  would  talk  of  your  studies. 

Sometimes  this  lack  of  friendship  and  conversation 
saddens  me  a  little.  You  must  forgive  me,  for  I  have 
lost  everything  at  once,  my  family,  all  my  friends,  the 
Ecole  and  Paris,  those  two  homes  of  the  intellect.  But 
with  a  little  effort,  the  sad  feeling  is  dispelled  ;  I  take  up  a 
book.  Montesquieu  said  that  half  an  hour's  reading  was 
sufficient  to  make  him  forget  the  worst  troubles  in  life. 


it:. 


LIFE   AND   LETTERS   OF   H.   TAINE 

To  Edouard  de  Suckau. 

December  22,  1851. 

DEAR  FRIEND,— Thank  you,  but  I  can't ! '  1°  We  shall 
only  have  three  days'  holiday ;  2°  If  I  went  to  Paris,  my 
two  uncles  at  Juvisy 2  and  Poissy  3  would  cut  my  throat, 
and  rightly  so,  if  I  did  not  go  to  them.  And  my  mother 
would  not  forgive  me  for  not  having  taken  an  extra  day 
to  go  and  see  her  ;  she  is  dull,  and  would  like  to  see  me  ; 
3°  It  is  possible  that  I  may  have  to  go  to  Paris  soon,  against 
my  will.  The  rector  gave  us  the  following  sincere  declar- 
ation to  sign  :  "  We,  the  undersigned,  professors  at  the 
Nevers  College,  declare  that  we  adhere  to  the  measures 
taken  on  December  2  by  the  President  of  the  Republic, 
and  we  offer  him  the  expression  of  our  gratitude  and  respect." 
All  my  honourable  colleagues  signed,  but  I  was  unfortunate 
enough  to  remain  an  exception,  the  atmosphere  being 
heavy  with  threats  of  dismissals.  So  that  I  may  any 
day  go  to  Ghent  for  a  change  of  air.  The  Government, 
loving  liberty  as  it  does,  will  probably  desire  to  strengthen 
my  virtue  by  removing  temptations  from  me. 

But  I  have  your  signed  promise,  and  I  shall  have  you 
on  the  Saturday,  2nd  (45,  Rue  du  Commerce).  And  I 
shall  keep  you  as  long  as  you  will  stay.  I  shall  go  through 

the  most  magnificent  philosophical  rosary,  and  you  too. 
***** 

You  will  see  here  a  series  of  analyses  on  Sensations,4 

1  M.  de  Suckau  had  invited  M.  Taine  to  spend  the  New  Year 
holidays  in  Paris,  at  his  parents'  house. 

2  M.  Alexandre  Bezanson.  3  M.  Adolphe  Bezanson. 

•*  Of   the   sensations    (observations),    98    pages.     Plan :     "  Pre- 
146 


PROFESSORSHIP 

Images,  the  relations  of  pure  Thought  with  the  brain,  and 
the  nature  of  the  ego,  which  will  delight  your  heart.  I  now 
and  then  indulge  in  physiological l  or  historical 2  excursions, 
and  I  have  read  two  volumes  of  that  Chinese  puzzle  vul- 
garly called  Hegel's  Logic.  I  am  like  Cornelia,  old  fellow, 

liminary  enumeration  of  the  questions — 1,  Of  the  sensations  in 
particular,  touch,  sight,  etc.  ;  2,  Of  sensation  in  general."  Method  : 
"  1,  To  determinate  the  nature  of  sensation ;  2,  To  apply  this  definition 
to  the  different  kinds  of  sensations."  Then  follow  minute  analyses 
of  personal  experiments  on  Touch,  Smell,  Taste,  Hearing,  Sight, 
the  nature  of  musical  sound,  imaginative  sensation,  images,  associa- 
tions of  ideas,  and  memory. 

1  Notes  on  Physiology  and  Natural  History,  93  pages,  after  Cabanis, 
Miiller,   Broussais,   Bichat,   Etienne  Geoffrey  St.   Hilaire,   Isidore 
Geoffroy  St.  Hilaire,  Serres,  Coste,  Dumortier,  Berard,  Cams. 

2  General  Ideas  on  History,  32  pages.      "...  The  object  of 
History  is  to  discover  laws  or  general  facts ;   psychology  assists  it. 
.  .  ."     "  To  note  the  means  by  which  nations  are  individuals." 
"  Add   physiological   and   climacteric   causes.      A   son    owes  his 
nature  to  his  father,  and  to  the  climate.  ..."     "A  definition  should 
be  given  :    1°  Of  the  Government  and  its  different  functions,  War, 
Justice,  Tax-gathering,  Administration ;  of  the  Bodies ;   2°  of  the 
State  and  its  different  possible  classes,  priests,  aristocrats,  populace, 
agriculturists,  tradesmen  ;  3°  of  the  Family  and  the  relationship  of 
its  different  members  ;    4°  of  Art,  Religion,  Philosophy,  etc."      An 
analysis  of  Hegel's  Philosophy  of  History  follows  (38  pages),  id. 
of  Religion,  and  id.  of  Law.     In  the  middle  of  the  analysis  on  the 
State,  the  work  is  interrupted  by  this  sentence :    "3,  Legislative 
power.     The  Prince,  the  functionaries,  and  the  diverse  classes  take 
part  in  it,  ...  it  is  needless  to  go  on.    Poor  Hegel !  this  is  humilia- 
ting for  Philosophy.     Aristotle  did  show  the  right  of  the  stronger 
when  speaking  to  Alexander,  but  he  did  not  show  his  political 
opinions.     Hegel  has  no  notion  of  right,  of  individual  will  and  in- 
violable person ;  he  knows  but  what  is  good,  reasonable,  better. 
Will  is  sacred,  even  when  it  wills  the  worst.     There  is  in  his  book 
a  bad  mixture  of  right  and  of  politics.     Right  is  a  priori  a  geometry  ; 
politics  are  an  empiricism." 

147 


LIFE   AND   LETTERS   OF   H.    TAINE 

my  offspring  are  my  jewels  .  .  .  intellectual  offspring,  I 
mean,  of  course  ! 

I  imagine  that  you  too  are  in  love  but  with  our  cold 
deities.  Cold  is  the  word,  dear  old  man  !  Now  and  then 
a  transient  fire  burns  suddenly  in  my  brain  at  the  sight 
of  a  metaphysical  theorem.  But  it  soon  goes  out  for  want 
of  a  co-philosopher.  The  duffers  who  surround  me  are 
not  likely  to  add  fuel  to  it,  and  my  pupils  have  souls  of 
pasteboard,  which  I  may  model  perhaps,  but  never  set 
on  fire.  .  .  . 

I  am  writing  nonsense  because  I  am  in  the  dumps  at 
present.  It  happens  to  me  when  my  head  aches,  and  I 
have  no  resource  but  to  laugh  at  myself  and  others,  or  to 
think,  as  you  know,  on  my  great  stoician  consolation  (To 
die,  to  sleep,1  which  my  psychology  confirms  more  and 
more).  Now  as  I  am  not  at  heart  a  Buddhist,  and  as  the 
contemplation  of  the  pure  zero  becomes  fatiguing,  I  amuse 
myself  by  being  silly.  "  Life  is  an  infant  which  must  be 
rocked  to  sleep."  Conclusion  :  come  and  eat  my  soup 
on  Saturday,  the  2nd,  and  see  my  clock,  and  my  pictures 
(representing  the  execution  of  an  Italian  brigand,  destined 
to  terrify  bad  tenants  by  showing  them  the  eonsequences 
of  misconduct ;  also  a  tender  shepherd  stealing  a  nest 
for  his  Estelle,  a  picture  ordered  by  the  police  to  soften 
ferocious  souls).  Why,  it  softens  me  to  tears  !  ! 

Come,  my  Nemorin,  come  to  your  Estelle  !  ! 

1  In  English  in  the  original 


148 


PROFESSORSHIP 

To  his  Mother. 

December  24,  1851. 

I  leave  my  Hegel  and  my  scribbllngs  to  come  and  talk 
to  you.  I  am  tired  and  can  find  no  better  rest  than  thoughts 
of  you.  In  this  great,  indifferent  world  which  surrounds 
me,  and  where  I  have  to  fight  a  battle  at  each  step  to  make 
my  way,  there  is  a  little  corner  where  I  have  three  dear 
ones.  .  .  .  The  good  times  in  Paris  will  never  come  again. 

M.  Vacherot  has  written  to  me  x  recommending  to  me 
those  amusements  which  are  permitted  to  a  philosopher, 
i.e.  music  and  dancing.  Music,  certainly;  dementi  and 
Mendelssohn  are  divine.  But  dancing  !  !  I  am  becoming 
more  and  more  contemptuous,  more  and  more  of  a  hermit. 
I  quite  intend  this  winter  to  let  the  Nivernese  wriggle 
without  me  through  that  hopping  turkey's  dance,  vul- 
garly called  the  polka.  Every  one  has  his  pleasures.  An 
honest  middle-class  angler  is  happier  when  he  catches  a 
tiny  carp  than  the  most  marvellous  society  dancing  man 
in  the  midst  of  his  most  fascinating  evolutions.  I  angle 
in  the  river  of  philosophy  (backbiters  might  say  that  I 

1  Letter  from  M.  Vacherot,  December  19  :  "  Serious  and  exalted 
minds,  unable  to  speak  or  to  write  about  politics,  under  the  military 
and  popular  regime  which  is  imposed  on  us,  will  have  to  take  refuge 
in  pure  science  and  philosophy.  Do  then  translate  Hegel  whilst 
studying  for  your  agrvgation  ;  it  is  the  most  urgent  service  that  you 
can  render  to  French  philosophy  just  now.  Take  care  of  your  health. 
.  .  .  Aristotle  declares  that  the  mind  in  itself  is  indefatigable,  and 
that  it  is  its  contact  with  the  body  which  makes  it  subject  to  fatigue. 
I  doubt  it  ,  .  .  the  mind  needs  rest.  ...  I  recommend  to  you  all 
the  pleasures  permitted  to  a  philosopher,  and  particularly  music 
and  dancing.  You  know  that  the  wisdom  of  the  ancients  did  not 
shrink  from  it." 

149 


LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF  H.  TAINE 

angle  In  muddy  waters) ;  and  a  small  truth  dragged  from 
the  bottom  of  the  water  makes  me  happy  for  the  rest  of 
the  day.  Sometimes  I  have  headaches,  moments  of  weak- 
ness, when  my  solitude  palls  upon  me.  But  what  sky  is 
without  its  clouds  ?  Taking  it  altogether,  my  life  is  to 
be  envied.  I  earn  in  a  short  time  what  is  necessary  for 
my  living.  I  enjoy  good  health  ;  I  am  amassing  for  the 
future.  Though  I  am  buried  like  a  mole,  like  it,  I  make 
my  way.  I  must  not  think  of  what  I  am,  but  what  I  shall 
be.  I  live  in  the  future  ;  I  prepare  for  it ;  the  present  is 
nothing.  The  more  obscure  I  am,  the  more  absorbed  in 
my  work,  the  greater  are  my  chances.  I  compare  myself 
with  those  who  govern  France,  and  I  think  without  vanity 
that  I  have  every  reason  to  hope. 

Nothing  new  here  ;  I  think  that  the  rector  was  right, 
and  I  am  not  in  danger.  I  shall  continue  until  the  holi- 
days to  keep  my  sixteen  little  canaries  in  my  licensed 
cage. 


To  Prtvost-Paradd. 

December  30,  1851. 

DEAR  FRIEND, — I  have  about  decided  to  become  your 
competitor. 

I  am  awaiting  a  letter  which  will  settle  my  intentions. 
You  understand  that  I  must  know  for  certain  what  is 
going  on  in  high  quarters,  and  whether  the  philosophy 
agregation  has  any  chance  of  being  re-established.  I  wished 
at  first  to  abandon  agregations  and  to  go  up  for  my  doc- 
torate at  the  end  of  the  year.  I  shall  give  up  philosophy 
but  at  the  very  latest  extremity,  and  I  shall  become  a 

150 


PROFESSORSHIP 

slave  to  Greek  and  Latin  exercises,  but  in  the  hope  of  going 
back  to  it  one  day. 

If,  as  you  say,  competition  with  me  makes  you  tremble, 
you  can  well  afford  it !  Dried  up  and  hardened  as  I  am 
by  several  years  of  abstractions  and  syllogisms,  where 
shall  I  find  again  the  ease  and  graces  of  the  Latin  style, 
and  the  Greek  elegance  necessary  to  order  not  to  be  sub- 
merged by  eighty  rivals  and  to  arrive  abreast  of  Maxime 
Gaucher,  Sarcey,  you,  etc.  ? 

I  am  going  to  dig  in  my  neglected  soil ;  you  know  how 
hard.  If,  as  it  is  probable,  I  meet  the  same  fate  as  last 
year,  I  shall  be  quite  innocent  of  it.  I  shall  do  all  I  can 
to  keep  afloat.  May  Cicero  help  me. 

I  am  counting  on  you  a  little  ;  send  me  some  information 
as  to  the  books  I  must  read,  etc.  .  .  .  Talk  to  me  of 
Babrius,  Dionysius  of  Halicarnassus,  of  the  history  of 
ancient  metres,  and  other  pretty  things.  I  may  perhaps 
send  you  a  Greek  exercise  for  you  or  M.  Benoit  to  correct. 
Give  me  an  arm  !  I  have  had  one  fall  and  am  still  bruised. 

Will  you  ask  Ed.  to  buy  me  a  little  If.  Virgil,  German 
edition,  and  bring  it  to  me  ?  Happy  Ed.  But  it  is  better 
that  he  should  be  agrege  than  I,  for  I  may  perhaps  find 
again  my  Ciceronian  periods  and  defunct  hexameters. 
His  happiness  consoles  me.  Let  him  give  me  at  least  a 
good  half -day,  and  tell  me  all  about  you. 

M.  Simon  has  just  answered  a  line  I  had  written  him. 
His  letter  shows  strong  condemnation  of  M.  X.  What 
had  the  other  done  ? 

Let  us  pass  on  now  to  your  last  letter  but  one.1  I 
purposely  did  not  mention  it  before.  The  events  seemed 

*  Gr6ard,  p.  181. 
151 


LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF  H.  TAINE 

to  have  irritated  you.  Your  words  were  gentle,  but  the  tone 
signified  :  "  My  friend  Taine  is  a  half -coward  who  soothes 
his  alarmed  conscience  with  sophistries."  However,  I 
imagine  that  that  idea  was  only  transitory,  for  you  would 
not  have  such  a  creature  for  a  friend.  I  do  not  think  that 
I  am  doing  myself  too  much  honour  or  asking  too  much 
of  you,  when  I  desire  you  to  believe  that  if  my  duty  had 
required  it  in  the  least,  I  should  have  gone  to  Paris  to 
hunt  for  private  lessons.  It  was  handling  the  question 
rather  roughly  to  call  sophistries  reasons  which  you  did  not 
refute.  Are  you  so  unfaithful  to  your  own  principles  that 
you  do  not  now  recognize  M.  Bonaparte  for  a  legitimate 
sovereign.  His  action  remains  detestable.  But  here  he 
is,  the  elect  of  the  nation,  and  what  has  a  partisan  of  the 
universal  suffrage  to  say  against  the  will  of  the  nation  ? 
The  seven  million  votes  do  not  justify  his  perjury,  but  they 
give  him  the  right  to  be  obeyed.  The  middle  class  have 
been  cowards,  and  the  peasants  stupid  ;  yes,  but  let  us 
respect  the  nation,  even  when  it  is  misled. 

Let  us  suffer  on  account  of  one  great  principle,  but  let 
us  defend  it  nevertheless.  Otherwise  I  do  not  recognize 
you,  and  I  do  not  know  how  to  make  you  agree  with  your- 
self. As  to  the  distinction  between  the  State  and  the 
Government,  between  a  prefet  and  a  professor,  it  is  the 
only  means  of  bringing  justice  into  the  administration. 
We  are  functionaries  of  the  State  and  not  of  such  and 
such  a  Government,  and  we  teach  the  same  things  under 
M.  de  Montalembert  as  under  M.  Barrot  or  M.  Ledru- 
Rollin.  We  serve  the  public,  and  not  the  reigning  opinion. 
A  prefect,  on  the  contrary,  is  the  agent  of  the  present 
Government  and  the  enemy  of  the  others.  He  must  resign 

152 


PROFESSORSHIP 

when  his  chief  falls.  He  cannot  become  the  agent  of  his 
chief's  adversaries  against  him.  The  professor  keeps  his 
place,  like  a  magistrate  or  a  village  policeman,  because  he 
acts  neither  for  nor  against  the  Government.  If  these 
principles  were  adopted,  the  administration  would  become 
honest  and  independent,  whilst  it  now  presents  but  cowar- 
dice and  suffering  consciences.  Forgive  this  dirge  as  you 
call  it.  I  will  now  provide  you  with  weapons  against  me  : 
1°,  The  preset  is  effacing  the  words  "  Liberty,  Equality, 
Fraternity  "  from  the  public  monuments  ;  the  "  Liberty  " 
trees  are  being  cut  down  and  the  wood  distributed  amongst 
the  poor ;  2°,  all  our  honourable  colleagues  have  signed  an 
adhesion  to  December  2.  Would  you  believe  it  ?  They  are 
nearly  all  Republicans,  and  say  they  are.  I  see  that  Fillias 
and  Challemel-Lacour  have  been  dismissed.  Is  it  because 
they  refused  to  sign  ?  that  would  be  a  presage.  Then  I 
would  run  up  to  you  in  Paris  and  we  would  work  together. 

Tell  Ponsot  I  shall  soon  answer  him.  Good  Lord,  let 
him  go  in  for  medicine.  Happy  man,  he  will  be  indepen- 
dent if  he  can  wash  off  his  official  psychology. 

Real,  free  psychology  is  a  magnificent  science  upon  which 
is  founded  the  philosophy  of  history,  which  verifies  physi- 
ology and  opens  up  Metaphysics.  I  have  made  many 
discoveries  in  these  three  months,  and  I  have  read  two 
volumes  of  Hegel ;  I  had  never  advanced  so  far  in  philo- 
sophy. And  to  give  it  up  !  To  string  hemistichs  and  to 
tremble  before  a  barbarism  !  How  sickening  it  would  be  ! 
Tell  Suckau  to  go  and  see  Delacroix's  big  picture  at  the 
Apollo  gallery.  I  hear  it  spoken  of  with  enthusiasm.  I 
was  not  able  to  go  and  see  you  ;  I  only  had  three  days' 
holiday. 

153 


LIFE   AND   LETTERS   OF   H.    TAINE 

To  his  Mother  and  Sisters. 

January  1,  1852. 

It  was  written  in  the  celestial  archives  that  I  should  be 
a  Professor  of  Literature,  and  that  sooner  or  later  I  should 
again  become  a  faithful  worshipper  of  the  Greek  language. 
The  Philosophy  agregation  is  suppressed  for  this  year,1 
and  probably  for  ever  if  we  are  to  believe  the  enclosed 
letters.  I  have  come  to  a  decision,  and  after  to-morrow 
I  shall  heroically  begin  to  prepare  to  pass  in  Literature. 
I  have  books  here,  I  shall  work  with  the  Rhetoric  Pro- 
fessor ;  my  plan  is  all  made  out.  I  hope  to  find  enough 
time  to  get  together  materials  for  my  thesis  and  doctorate. 
You  can  imagine  my  vexation,  but  I  have  made  up  my 
mind  to  give  way  to  necessity,  and  now  I  dream  of  success. 

Thank  you  for  approving  of  my  conduct.  What  is  going 
on  is  not  likely  to  make  me  friendly  towards  the  Govern- 
ment. M.  Jules  Simon  has  been  suspended  for  a  lesson 
on  the  Principles  of  Morality  ;  it  is  indeed  evident  that  to 
speak  of  Right  or  of  Duty  is  a  mode  of  criticizing  the  Go- 
vernment. Things  are  going  towards  the  re-establishment 
of  the  Inquisition  and  it  will  soon  be  impossible  to  write 
or  to  think  in  France.  As  I  expected  from  the  first,  M. 
Bonaparte  will  give  everything  to  the  bishops  in  order  to 
gain  their  support.  He  will  do  penance  for  his  sins  on  our 
backs.  So  be  it.  Te  Deum  laudamus. 

By  the  bye,  we  went  in  a  body  to  hear  a  Te  Deum  to-day. 
What  monkey  play  !  I  am  always  inclined  to  ask  myself, 

1  Greard,  p.  184.  Letter  from  M.  Fortoul  to  M.  Michelle  :  "  Sir, 
the  present  teaching  staff  being  sufficient  for  actual  needs,  I  have 
decided  that  there  should  be  no  agregation  competition  this  year 
for  philosophy  classes." 

154 


PROFESSORSHIP 

What  the  deuce  is  being  acted  here  ?  I  prefer  the  opera, 
the  actors  know  their  parts  better  and  the  supers  are  less 
ugly.  After  that  we  went  to  pay  the  official  calls  on  the 
prefect  and  the  general.  The  general  said,  a  propos  of  the 
Clamecy  insurgents  :  "If  they  had  not  run  away  I  should 
have  paved  the  streets  with  them ;  God  would  have  chosen 
the  good  ones."  It  is  the  saying  of  the  Abbot  of  Citeaux 
during  the  Albigense  war  :  "  Kill  them  all,  God  will  know 
his  own."  Mitred  assassins  and  medalled  cut-throats, 
they  are  worthy  of  one  another.  The  prefect  added,  "  I 
shall  keep  as  many  as  I  can  in  prison,  and  try  to  send  most 
of  them  to  Cayenne."  What  a  paternal  Government ;  It 
is  quite  touching  !  It  is  better  to  be  nothing  as  I  am,  or 
suspended,  than  to  be  a  gaoler  or  a  licensed  butcher. 

It  is  something  not  to  be  an  executioner  !  I  prefer  my 
old  black  coat  to  a  gold-embroidered  one  stained  with  blood. 

But  there  is  no  need  to  worry :  it  seems  that  my  refusal 
to  sign  will  have  no  consequences.  As  to  my  post,  I  am 
not  sure  that  the  incumbent  will  not  return  to  it  at  Easter. 
I  shall  not  have  a  chance  of  communicating  with  him  about 
it  for  some  time. 

I  am  so  glad  that  my  sisters  so  well  understand  what 
I  have  read  to  them.  Would  you  believe  it,  M.  B.,  who 
is  an  intelligent,  witty,  cultured  man,  blamed  Julien's 
story  (Stendhal's  Rouge  et  Noir),  calling  it  exaggerated, 
unnatural,  and  saying  that  he  had  never  seen  anything  at 
all  like  it. 

Dear  girls,  do  not  trouble  about  the  technical  details 
and  geographical  particularities  that  school-trained  par- 
rots can  rattle  off  by  heart.  Be  sure  of  your  spelling, 
arithmetic  and  the  essential  part  of  geography.  Trust 

155 


LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF  H.  TAINE 

for  the  rest  to  your  reading,  conversations  and  meditations. 
The  aim  of  Education  is  to  open  the  mind,  to  bring  forth 
ideas,  and  the  habit  of  thinking.  Study  is  but  a  means. 
A  woman  need  not  pass  an  examination  before  going  into 
society ;  she  is  not  questioned  in  a  drawing-room  as  to  a 
date  or  a  chemical  solution.  She  knows  enough,  and  the 
cleverest  man  can  take  pleasure  in  her  conversation,  if 
she  has  ideas  about  everything,  if  she  can  follow  any  con- 
versation, and  if  her  judgment  is  free  and  broad  enough  to 
allow  her  to  have  an  opinion  on  any  questions  of  morality, 
conduct  or  religion  which  may  be  submitted  to  her.  A 
conversation  which  is  a  mere  exchange  of  dates  and  facts 
is  but  a  wearisome  dialogue  between  pedants.  A  conversa- 
tion which  is  an  exchange  of  ideas  brightly  expressed  is 
perhaps  the  greatest  pleasure  to  be  met  with,  and  it  is 
within  reach  of  any  thinking  person,  without  great  learning. 
The  only  examination  a  woman  has  to  pass  is  on  the  subjects 
of  dress,  manners,  dancing  and  music,  and  I  see  that  you 
are  very  well  qualified  for  it. 


To  Prtvost-Paradol. 

January  10,  1852. 

Edouard  has  only  just  sent  me  your  letter.  Since  it 
is  dated  on  the  3rd  I  imagine  you  were  away  from  the 
Ecole  and  on  your  return  found  the  one  I  wrote  on 
December  30,  or  is  it  lost,  I  wonder  ? 

In  any  case,  my  dear  fellow,  how  can  you  think  me 
foolish  enough  to  refuse  you  a  freedom  which  I  take  for 
myself  ?  Do  I  generally  get  easily  offended  ?  At  the  Ecole, 

156 


PROFESSORSHIP 

was  I  supposed  not  to  brook  contradiction  ?  You  may 
contradict  me,  attack  me,  blame  me,  refute  my  arguments  ; 
I  will  discuss  with  you  and  love  you  the  better  for  your 
openness.  I  must  say  your  letter  hurts  me.  How  could 
you  think  I  wished  to  break  a  five  years'  friendship  ? 
Never  in  future  have  such  ideas  ;  never  speak  to  me  of 
"  taking  your  hand  away  from  mine  "  ;  write  at  once  to 
apologize  for  those  horrid  words.  We  have  been  brothers 
in  philosophy,  in  politics,  in  literature,  our  two  minds 
were  born  together,  one  by  the  other,  and  it  seems  to  me 
that  I  should  lose  the  whole  of  my  past  life  if  I  were  to  lose 
you. 

But  you  must  put  up  with  a  similar  openness  on  my 
part,  when  I  tell  you  that  I  am  sorry  for  your  revulsion.  It 
is  not  for  a  philosopher  to  change  his  doctrine  with  cir- 
cumstances. The  chain  of  reasoning  which  justified 
universal  suffrage  is  unchanged,  and  Truth  has  remained 
the  same.  If  there  are,  as  you  say,  seven  million  beasts 
of  burden  in  France,  those  seven  millions  have  a  right  to 
dispose  of  what  belongs  to  them.  No  matter  if  they 
choose  to  govern  wrong.  The  veriest  oaf  has  a  right  to 
dispose  of  his  field  and  private  property ;  and,  simi- 
larly, a  nation  of  fools  has  the  right  to  dispose  of  itself, 
that  is  of  public  property.  Either  you  must  deny  the 
sovereignty  of  human  will  and  the  whole  nature  of  Right 
or  you  must  obey  universal  suffrage. 

Note,  however,  that  there  are  restrictions  to  the  above, 
which  I  formerly  used  against  you  when  I  denied  to 
the  majority  the  absolute  power  which  you  conceded  to 
it.  It  is  because  there  are  things  which  are  outside  the 
social  contract,  which  are  therefore  beyond  public  property, 

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LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF  H.  TAINE 

and  thus  escape  the  decision  of  the  public  ;  for  instance, 
liberty  of  conscience  and  everything  that  we  call  the  rights 
and  duties  anterior  to  society.  But  in  the  present  ques- 
tion, in  the  choice  of  a  form  of  government,  the  national 
will  is  obviously  a  sovereign  one ;  and  we  cannot  better 
prove  our  loyalty  than  by  defending  our  principles,  even 
when  the  imbecile  masses  use  them  against  us. 

Otherwise  you  march  straight  to  tyranny.  The  Emperor 
of  Russia  might  say,  "I  am  the  only  intelligent  man  in  my 
realm  "  (which  is  true,  by  the  way).  "  Therefore  it  is  my 
will  which  must  govern  and  not  that  of  my  subjects." 
The  Catholics  say,  "  We  alone  know  the  true  end  of  man, 
and  our  adversaries'  science  blinds  them  more  than  ignor- 
ance could  do.  Therefore  our  will  must  govern."  Pascal's 
saying  is  decisive:  "Who  is  to  be  first?  the  most  learned ? 
but  who  is  to  judge  ?  He  has  four  lacqueys,  I  have  but 
one  ;  he  must  pass  before  me.  It  is  a  question  of  numbers, 
and  I  should  be  a  fool  to  dispute  it." 

I  will  not  repeat  to  you  the  old  utilitarian  arguments. 
Between  men  like  you  and  me,  the  only  arguments  which 
count  are  those  of  justice.  The  question  reduces  itself 
to  this  :  Do  you  admit,  with  Rousseau,  that  human  will 
is  inviolable  concerning  that  which  legitimately  pertains  to 
it  ?  If  not,  you  deny  Right.  The  real  solution  would  be  the 
education  of  the  people  ;  they  will  have  it  in  a  hundred 
years.  But,  for  God's  sake,  let  us  defend  their  rights  even 
against  ourselves,  whilst  wishing  and  trying  to  enlighten 
them. 

Good-bye,  dear  enemy,  with  much  love. 

Is  not  Edmond  going  to  Greece  ?  Which  are  the  gram- 
marians of  the  eighteenth  century  who  are  inspired  by 

158 


PROFESSORSHIP 

Dionysius  of  Halicarnassus  ?  :    I  am  writing  some  Latin 
verse  !  !  " 

To  Edouard  de  Suckau. 

January  15,  1852. 

MY  DEAR  FRIEND, — I  expected  you  for  my  New  Year  ! 
At  five  o'clock  on  Saturday  afternoon  I  had  placed  your 
arm-chair  by  my  fire,  looking  forward  to  spending  the 
evening  with  you  and  seeing  you  off  the  next  day.  Dis 
aliter  visum. 

The  New  Year  begins  sadly  for  me.  I  shall  waste  a 
great  part  of  it  preparing  a  doubtful  aggregation,  doubtful 
I  say,  in  spite  of  all  your  flattery.  Marot,  Prevost, 
Gaucher,  Dupre,  Sarcey,  etc.,  are  going  up,  and  philosophy 
dries  up  one's  style  and  throws  one's  ideas  outside  the 
common  stream.  And,  if  I  deserve  to  pass,  will  they  let 
me  ?  An  old  ultra-Catholic  maiden  aunt  of  mine,  in  the 
Ardennes,  writes  me  a  metaphysical  letter,  intended  to 
bring  me  back  to  the  right  track,  talking  to  me  of  Spinoza, 
saying  that  I  confessed  to  atheism  at  the  agregation,  etc. 
.  .  .  the  whole  thing  inspired  by  her  priests.  You  see, 
calumny  and  espionage  are  far-reaching  ;  I  am  a  notorious 
miscreant,  and  perhaps  I  shall  be  expelled  from  literature 

1  Extract  from  a  short  analysis  of  Dionysius  of  Halicarnassus, 
entitled  "  Of  the  Expression,"  and  to  be  found  in  the  same  note- 
book as  "  General  Ideas  on  Literature  and  Art "  :  "  The  general 
law  is  this :  the  concrete  receives  from  the  abstract  its  intellectual 
form.  This  theory  of  the  expression  is  magnificent,  and  has  some 
prodigious  applications.  Every  language,  every  art,  every  science, 
the  whole  human  interior,  every  form  of  matter  in  the  organic  and 
inorganic  world,  the  All  itself,  which  is  the  highest  abstract  form 
expressed  in  the  concrete." 

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LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF  H.  TAINE 

as  I  have  been  from  philosophy.  Yet  I  will  try  again, 
half-consoled  beforehand,  for  I  really  wonder  at  the  very 
little  that  is  needed  to  live  on ;  I  have  more  than  I  want 
with  1,615  fr.  This  is  why:  there  is  no  theatre  here  ;  I 
would  pay  rather  than  go  to  the  dens  they  call  cafes ;  I  have 
been  to  those  crushes  they  call  dances  or  evening  parties, 
and  have  given  them  up  so  as  not  to  die  of  heat  and  bore- 
dom ;  I  will  know  nothing  of  Nevers  but  my  own  fireside. 
Working  and  cigarette  smoking  are  not  expensive  ;  I  am 
therefore  too  rich ;  and  as  I  can  always  procure  those  riches 
I  can  afford  to  laugh  at  the  future.  Prevost  found  two 
letters  from  me  on  his  return  to  the  Ecole,  and  writes  that 
he  regrets  the  one  you  sent  me.  I  am  having  a  polemic 
with  him  on  universal  suffrage.  As  you  say,  he  is  English 
and  an  aristocrat,  hence  his  politics ;  he  is  also  too  pas- 
sionate to  obey  pure  deductions.  He  frightens  me.  What 
is  that  talk  of  a  possible  general  dismissal  at  the  Boole  and 
of  an  organic  law  on  Education  ?  Dear  Ed.,  with  him  and 
About  I  am  constantly  on  the  alert ;  friendship  is  almost 
militant ;  with  you  I  feel  as  if  I  were  sitting  in  the  Ecole 
playground  during  the  summer,  peaceful  and  happy,  with 
my  head  on  your  breast,  do  you  remember  ? 

It  would  take  too  long  to  tell  you  about  my  scribblings. 
I  have  written  a  great  fat  MS.  on  Sensation.  Here  is  my 
doctrine,  roughly  :  Nerves  and  the  brain  are  the  feeling 
ego,  who  is  their  unity,  final  cause,  principle  of  duration  and 
determination.  Each  sense  contains  in  its  essence  a  rela- 
tion to  a  determinate  mode  of  being  of  the  Exterior — the 
eye  with  aether- vibrations,  the  hearing  with  air-waves,  etc. 
.  .  .  and  its  function  is  to  receive  and  to  reproduce  the 
particular  mode  of  action  of  that  Exterior.  Thereby  do 

160 


PROFESSORSHIP 

constituted  individuals,  though  separate  and  opposite,  com- 
bine together  and  the  ego  unites  with  the  non-ego.  You 
know  that  from  undeterminate  and  diffuse  matter  the 
tendency  of  Nature  is  towards  individuality  and  separa- 
tion. The  essence  of  animality  is  to  re-establish  this 
primitive  unity  by  a  superior  unity.  But  sensation,  trans- 
mitted to  the  brain,  there  produces  its  image  ;  so  that  it 
becomes  capable  of  enduring  after  the  action  of  the  Ex- 
terior has  ceased,  to  reproduce  itself,  to  suffer  the  action  of 
thought  and  to  provide  Science  with  material.  That  move- 
ment is  the  solution  of  the  problem  :  "  How  to  interiorize 
the  Exterior."  Then  begins  the  role  of  Thought,  which 
has  no  other  object  than  the  ego,  and  which,  thanks  to  the 
curious  mechanism  of  exterior  perception,  perceives  the 
non-ego  in  the  ego.  This  second  movement  is  the  solution 
of  the  problem  :  "  How  to  exteriorize  the  Interior."  But 
this  is  but  one  case  of  a  more  general  law  :  the  function 
of  the  brain  in  Memory  is  to  reproduce  past  images  and 
thus  to  make  the  past  present ;  the  function  of  the  Mind, 
thanks  to  a  theory  of  which  you  already  saw  a  glimpse  at 
the  Ecole,  is  to  consider  this  present  image  as  a  past  one. 
These  two  movements — opposite,  like  those  of  exterior 
perception — constitute  Memory.  If  I  were  to  develop  this, 
I  would  show  how  this  applies  to  Induction,  to  Reason, 
how  the  mind  perceives  the  future  in  the  present,  the 
universal  in  the  particular.  The  nature  of  the  ego  in 
general  is  to  individualize  the  universal  and  to  univer- 
salize the  individual ;  it  is  an  epitome  of  the  All  and  has, 
through  Thought,  some  relation  to  everything.  The 
movement  of  nature  consists  in  leaving  its  indetermination, 
which  is  worked  out  by  separations,  oppositions  and 

161  M 


LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF  H.  TAINE 

reciprocal  limitations, — and  in  suppressing  those  limita- 
tions by  a  Being,  at  the  same  time  individual  and  universal, 
having  the  unity  of  the  first  movement  and  the  determina- 
tion of  the  second. 

I  pass  over  a  mass  of  researches  and  theories  on  colours, 
savours,  contacts,  odours,  and  especially  sounds, — others 
on  muscular  sensations,  the  different  modes  of  imagina- 
tion, the  relations  of  language  to  thought,  etc.  I  shall 
talk  to  you  about  Hegel,  but  not  before  the  holidays. 

What  a  misfortune  is  mine,  dear  friend  !  I  was  sailing 
like  a  vessel  down  the  psychological  incline,  I  was  finding 
out  all  sorts  of  things,  understanding  M.  Jouffroy,  who 
sees  a  world  in  the  soul,  beginning  applications  to  the 
philosophy  of  History — and  I  must  come  down  to  Latin 
hemistichs  and  Greek  accentuations.  I  console  myself  a 
little  by  thinking  that  it  will  be  an  opportunity  for  me  to 
go  through  a  course  of  ^Esthetics.  I  have  already  written 
various  things  on  the  Drama  and  the  Epopoeia. l  But 
when  shall  I  be  free  from  all  that  and  able  to  enter  pure 
Metaphysics  ?  Magna  Mater  \  It  is  the  Ocean  of  Beauty, 
closed  to  the  profane,  of  which  Plato  speaks  !  As  Louis 
XI  said,  "  I  have  no  Paradise  in  my  mind  but  that 
one." 

1  A  notebook,  dated  1852,  and  entitled  General  Ideas  on  Litera- 
ture, treats  of  the  Epopa'ia,  the  Drama  and  the  Ode  ;  of  the  Ideal 
in  those  three  styles  (opening  with  this  definition — The  Ideal 
is  the  Real,  purified) ;  of  Romance,  and  the  Epic  Poem ;  of 
Drama  and  Tragedy  ;  Ideal  hi  Poetry  ;  Principle  of  the  varieties 
and  variations  of  Poetry ;  Rhyme  and  Rhythm  ;  of  Expression. 
At  the  end,  a  few  pages  on  Sculpture,  Painting,  and  Music.  A 
Comparison  of  the  three  Andromaches  (Euripides,  Virgil  and  Racine), 
dated  January  12,  1852,  is  a  literary  application  of  this  work  of 
analysis. 

162 


PROFESSORSHIP 

Good-bye  my  Stephanese.  Nothing  from  Edmond ; 
they  say  he  is  about  to  start.  I  am  afraid  he  must  be  lost. 
You  have  dipped  into  Paris  waters  and  are  living  again  ; 
vivify  me  !  !  Tuissimus. 

To  Prevost-Paradol. 

January  18,  1852. 

So  we  are  starting  on  a  polemic.  It  is  not  a  bad  thing, 
since  political  newspapers  are  suppressed.  But  I  will  not 
dispute  longer  than  you  like.  Close  my  mouth  when  I 
bore  you.  My  great  love  for  discussion  is  quite  benumbed 
now. 

First  of  all,  you  must  notice  that  you  make  use  against 
me  of  a  recollection  :  which  is  inaccurate.  When  I  con- 
sidered Louis  XIV's  monarchy  as  a  legitimate  one,  it  was 
not  on  account  of  the  needs,  but  of  the  will  of  the  people 
of  that  time.  The  King  was  loved,  his  power  desired, 
with  no  reason,  it  is  true — but  sufficiently.  It  was  a 
tacit  universal  suffrage.  Remember  what  quarrels  that 
work  brought  upon  me  ! 

The  whole  question  between  us  depends  on  the  opinion 
we  have  on  the  principle  of  Right.  I  said  at  the  agrega- 
tion,  and  now  I  repeat  it,  that  it  is  founded  on  volition. 

Here  Is  your  phrase  :  "  This  principle,  perhaps  the  only 
true  one,  that  our  rights  are  engendered  and  measured  by 
the  extent  and  nature  of  our  needs,  etc. 

1  Greard,  p.  186.  Letter  from  PreVost-Paradol :  "  I  have  still, 
in  some  drawer  or  other,  a  note  written  by  you,  when  in  the 
Rhetoric  class,  in  which  you  very  rightly  say  that  Louis  XIV's 
France  had  to  obey  Louis  XIV  .  .  .  where  you  lean  on  that 
principle,  that  the  source  and  measure  of  Rights  is  the  nature  and 
extent  of  Needs." 

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LIFE   AND   LETTERS   OF   H.   TAINE 

Note  also  that  you  do  not  dare  to  state  this  thesis  abso- 
lutely and  that  you  restrict  it  by  a  perhaps.  The  rest  of 
the  letter  is  a  development  of  the  same  idea. 

Well,  my  dear  fellow,  here  are  the  proofs  in  support  of 
my  opinion.  If  you  wish  to  discuss  seriously,  refute  them 
one  by  one  and  give  the  demonstration  of  your  own. 

1°  Direct  proof. — It  is  a  fact  of  moral  conscience,  that,  in 
presence  of  the  volition  of  a  man,  bearing  upon  a  thing 
which  belongs  to  him,  we  are  inwardly  convinced  that  this 
volition  is  inviolable  and  that  no  one,  under  any  pretext 
whatever,  can  prevent  the  action  of  this  will.  Here  is  a 
peasant,  with  his  ground  ;  he  is  foolish  and  sows  it  badly. 
I,  who  am  learned,  advise  him  with  absolute  reason  to  do 
otherwise.  He  is  obstinate,  and  his  harvest  is  spoilt.  I 
should  commit  an  injustice  if  I  attempted  to  prevent  him. 

Here  is  a  people  who  choose  their  government.  Being 
foolish  and  ignorant,  they  confide  it  to  a  man  of  an  illus- 
trious name,  who  has  done  a  wicked  action  and  who  will 
lead  them  to  perdition  ;  more,  they  deprive  themselves  of 
their  liberties,  their  guarantees,  and  the  means  of  educating 
and  improving  themselves.  I  am  sorry  and  indignant ; 
I  do,  through  my  vote,  everything  I  can  to  prevent  them. 
But  this  nation  belongs  to  itself,  and  I  should  commit  an  in- 
justice if  I  opposed  that  sacred  and  inviolable  thing,  its  will. 

(In  my  last  letter,  I  made  an  exception  of  the  things 
which  are  outside  the  State,  such  as  liberty  of  conscience, 
and  family  duties.  Not  being  in  the  public  domain,  the 
nation  cannot  dispose  of  such.  But  the  mode  of  govern- 
ment is  undoubtedly  the  public  domain.  So  do  not  attack 
me  upon  that  ground.) 

2°  Indirect  proof. — If  the  enlightened  minority  has  the 

164 


PROFESSORSHIP 

right  of  forcing  the  stupid  majority,  one  enlightened  man 
has  the  right  of  forcing  the  stupid  unanimity,  which 
is  the  justification  not  of  royalty,  but  of  tyranny. 

If  I  am  convinced  that  I  alone  am  enlightened  and  all 
the  rest  stupid  (which  is  the  case  with  every  man  convinced 
of  his  opinion),  I  attribute  to  myself  the  right  of  forcing  the 
whole  nation.  Hence  the  following  pretty  application  : 
Suppose  that  M.  Bonaparte  is  not  accepted,  but  rejected 
by  the  people,  and  convinced  that  his  ideas  are  the  only 
just  ones  :  he  would  act  conscientiously  in  making  himself 
a  dictator  before  and  against  all,  and  should  be  considered 
a  virtuous  man.  You  attack  him  now  that  his  power  is 
desired  by  the  people  :  you  would  excuse  him  if  the  people 
did  not  want  him. 

Lastly:  (this  is  terrible:  you  did  not  answer  it)  The 
Catholics  must  believe  that  they  alone  are  enlightened, 
or  become  heretics  and  be  damned.  Therefore  they  must 
believe  that  they  have  a  right  to  override  any  resistance 
and  to  establish  whatever  they  will.  Philip  II  is  excusable 
for  his  war  of  the  Netherlands. 

To  sum  up,  as  soon  as  you  take  it  upon  yourself  to  con- 
sider your  adversaries  as  so  many  driven  sheep,  and  to 
despise  in  them  the  sanctity  of  the  human  will,  you  give 
them  the  same  right  against  yourself  and  you  justify  every 
injustice,  since  an  injustice  is  no  other  than  an  attack  upon 
a  human  will. 

3°  Refutation. — (Excuse  this  pedantry,  but  remember 
our  Rhetoric  copy-books  ;  it  is  the  only  way  to  conclude.) 

In  fact,  it  is  a  fallacy  to  say  that,  when  I  see  a  man  suffer- 
ing from  a  physical  or  moral  need,  my  conscience  shows  me 
in  him  a  right  to  satisfy  that  need.  A  poor  starving  man 

165 


LIFE   AND   LETTERS   OF   H.   TAINE 

is  to  be  pitied,  and  it  is  my  duty  to  feed  him,  but  he  has 
not  the  right  to  take  a  loaf  by  force.  A  political  man  who 
needs  political  life,  etc.,  has  not  therefore  the  right  of 
overthrowing  the  will  of  the  nation  which  refuses  it  and  to 
expel  the  Government  which  takes  it.  This  is  a  fact  of 
conscience ;  it  is  primitive.  Deny  it  if  you  can ;  if  not,  your 
argument  is  destroyed. 

I  pass  over  other  refutations.  You  know  all  that  has 
been  said  against  M.  Louis  Blanc.  Read  it ;  your  principle 
is  his. 

My  dear  fellow,  I  live  in  the  abstract,  I  know  that,  and 
it  wants  some  courage  to  defend  the  cause  of  the  enemy 
in  the  face  of  public  misfortune  and  our  private  misfortunes. 
Perhaps  if  I  were  in  politics,  like  you,  the  spectacle  of  what 
goes  on  would  carry  me  against  my  principles ;  I  understand 
you,  but  I  remain  an  ideologist. 

"  Let  the  colonies  perish  rather  than  a  principle." 
Indeed,  I  think  the  University  is  about  to  perish  !  M. 
Bonaparte's  speech  does  not  mention  it  at  all,  and  omits 
it  while  praising  all  the  other  institutions  of  the  realm. 
Well,  my  dear  fellow,  whatever  happens,  Science  will 
always  be  wanted,  and  then,  you  know  :  "  Highlanders, 
shoulder  to  shoulder." 

I  wish  you  would  kindly  go  and  see  Planat,  and  tell  me 
something  of  him  ;  I  can  get  nothing  out  of  him. 

Tell  Crousle  that  I  will  answer  him  soon. 

To  his  Mother. 

January  27,  1852. 

I  asked  the  Rector  the  other  day  to  sound  the  philosophy 
incumbent.  The  Rector  wishes  me  to  stay  ;  but  the  other 

166 


is  a  perfect  miser,  who  sups  off  a  bloater  bought  at  the 
grocer's,  and  who  will  perhaps  wish  to  take  back  his  1,615  fr., 
the  more  so  that  at  Easter  he  will  only  have  three  months' 
work  before  the  summer,  and  it  is  very  pleasant  to  receive 
a  salary  for  doing  nothing  during  the  holidays.  He  is  a 
cracked  old  pedant,  with  a  stuttering  jerky  way  of  speaking ; 
he  gives  no  lessons  to  the  boys,  but  merely  dictates  a  pro- 
gramme to  them.  I  know  that  my  sixteen  little  birds 
wish  to  retain  their  keeper,  and  that  they  will  not  welcome 
the  grumpy  old  owl  if  he  chooses  to  take  up  his  post  again. 
To  the  grace  of  God — and  of  the  owl. 

I  perceive  from  day  to  day  that  the  number  of  great 
men  is  infinitely  small.  This  place  is  a  perfect  Sahara  as  far 
as  ideas  are  concerned.  Stay,  though,  I  went  to  the  theatre 
yesterday  for  the  first  time.  (I  hate  melodrama  like 
poison,  but  it  chanced  that  they  were  acting  vaudevilles.) 
I  discovered  a  most  natural  and  talented  comedian,  but 
the  wretched  man  starves  with  his  company,  and  our 
ingenious  Nivernese  despise  him  on  account  of  his  pro- 
fession. 

In  the  morning  I  went  to  church,  and  I  heard  a  most 
cutting  diatribe  against  philosophy.  We  are  in  very  bad 
odour,  and  it  seems  that  the  great  pachas  in  the  Administra- 
tion intend  to  bring  the  celestial  fire  down  upon  Sodom 
and  Gomorrah — beware  of  a  smell  of  burning  !  My  poor 
friends  at  the  Ecole  are  expecting  a  general  dismissal.  I 
am  well  out  of  it !  If  Philosophy  and  professors  of  Philo- 
sophy are  suppressed,  I  am  more  fortunate  than  any  one  ; 
Latin  verses  and  Greek  exercises  have  been  flowing  from 
me  like  living  water,  and  the  Dictionary's  numbered 
flowers,  epithets  and  synonyms  are  spread  out  over  my 

167 


LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF  H.  TAINE 

intelligence  and  fertilizing  it.  I  am  ten  times  better  than 
my  collaborator,  the  Rhetoric  professor  (this  is  vanity, 
is  it  not,  but  it  is  not  saying  much  !),  and  I  have  many 
chances  of  success.  I  am  disappointed,  however,  because 
M.  B.,  who  had  promised  to  write  to  me  on  the  general 
state  of  things,  keeps  absolute  silence.  It  seems  that  the 
Coup  d'Etat  and  the  suppression  of  the  Constitution — 
his  political  firstborn — have  grieved  him  much.  M.  Bona- 
parte has  unceremoniously  struck  out  his  whole  parlia- 
mentary life. 

Nothing  new  here  or  elsewhere.  We  are  good  bourgeois, 
like  that  Wakefield  minister  for  whom  all  revolutions 
consisted  in  going  from  his  white  bed  to  his  brown  bed 
and  from  his  brown  bed  to  his  white  bed.  Life  is  mono- 
tonous, and  the  pillow  is  always  the  same  ;  let  us  go  to 
sleep  peacefully  and  dream  fair  dreams.  I  have  beautiful 
dreams,  my  science — which  I  cultivate  in  my  leisure 
hours — opens  infinite  horizons  before  me.  I  am  building 
on  solid  hopes.  Should  I  regret  that  my  future  should  be 
that  of  a  savant  ?  there  is  no  other  future  nowadays, 
politics  and  salaried  posts  being  open  but  to  servility.  The 
only  road  in  which  it  is  possible  to  walk  without  being 
bespattered  with  mud  is  that  of  abstract  discoveries.  I 
should  have  been  prevented  from  writing  and  speaking 
of  the  State,  Duty,  Right,  etc.  Who  will  prevent  me  from 
publishing  what  I  shall  have  found  out  about  nerves  and 
sensations  ?  Patience  and  courage  are  required,  it  is  true, 
but  one  can  remain  honest  whilst  making  progress. 


168 


PROFESSORSHIP 

To  Prevost-Paradol. 

February  5,  1852. 

Let  us  leave  politics  alone,  since  we  agree  upon  principles. 
As  to  the  consequences,  if  you  can  prove  that  the  liberties 
taken  from  us  have  been  stolen,  I  shall  be  delighted  ;  it 
would  be  a  consolation  to  be  able  to  cry,  "  Stop  thief  !  " 

I  would  rather  talk  to  you  of  business.  Let  us  under- 
stand our  future.  You  must  see  now  that  the  man  who  is 
reigning  has  some  chances  of  lasting.  He  very  ingeniously 
leans  upon  universal  suffrage,  which  will  not  ask  him  for 
liberties  but  for  comfort.  He  has  the  clergy  and  the  army, 
add  his  uncle's  name,  the  fear  of  socialism  and  the  divided 
opinions  of  the  adverse  party.  Political  life  is  therefore 
closed  to  us  for  ten  years  perhaps. 

The  only  clear  road  is  that  of  pure  science  or  of  mathe- 
matics ;  that  is  what  we  now  have  to  count  upon. 

Well,  my  friend,  see  which  is  the  best  position  from 
which  to  take  up  Literature  or  Science.  In  my  opinion, 
it  is  the  University,  and  for  this  reason  :  1°  It  only  requires 
four  hours  a  day  from  us ;  2°  it  makes  us  teach  scientific 
or  literary  subjects  ;  3°  I  see  by  my  own  experience  that 
it  can  be  done  conscientiously  and  honourably  without 
being  molested. 

I  do  not  know  what  sort  of  situation1  you  are  looking 
for.  If  you  had  told  me,  I  might  discuss  your  intention 
more  precisely.  But  I  doubt  if  it  could  have  such  advan- 
tages. If  you  become  a  secretary,  a  tutor,  a  private  teacher, 

1  Greard,  p.  189 :  "  Hoping  that  the  closing  of  the  Ecole  was 
about  to  set  us  free,  I  have  set  about  looking  for  some  modest  post 
where  I  can  have  leisure  to  work  quietly  at  my  theses,  against  the 
far-distant  day  when  the  University  becomes  habitable  again." 

169 


LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF  H.  TAINE 

or  the  collaborator  of  some  writer,  you  will  have  less  freedom 
of  mind,  less  leisure,  more  hindrances  than  in  the  University. 
Teaching  is  an  excellent  way  of  learning  ;  I  have  found 
many  new  psychological  truths  whilst  preparing  my 
lectures.  The  only  means  of  inventing  is  living  constantly 
in  one's  special  science.  I  have  taken  up  a  professor's 
career  because  I  believe  it  to  be  the  surest  road  to 
becoming  a  savant.  The  best  books  of  our  time  had  public 
lectures  for  their  first  material,  and  I  see  no  other  means 
nowadays  of  rising  from  obscurity  than  a  good  book  on 
which  one  has  worked  for  ten  years.  Add  the  extreme 
solitude,  the  necessity  of  constant  thinking  in  order  not 
to  die  of  ennui,  the  lack  of  amusements.  .  .  .  All  these 
disadvantages  of  a  country  town  are  helps  to  those  who 
wish  to  make  progress. 

Do  not  imagine  that  you  would  be  interfered  with. 
When  one  abstains  from  political  and  religious  allusions, 
and  from  attending  the  oratory  of  cafes,  the  authorities 
leave  you  alone.  My  rector  is  a  priest ;  there  is  a  bishop 
in  the  town  who  is  an  enemy  to  the  college  ;  my  principal 
goes  to  church  and  takes  the  Communion  ;  one  of  my  pupils' 
father  is  a  nobleman  who  reads  all  the  boy's  essays,  and  I 
know  that  there  are  no  complaints  about  me,1  though  my 
psychology  is  physiological,  and  though  I  have  much  mal- 
treated the  Raison  and  the  Liberte,  one  can  say  things 
without  mentioning  names  ;  and  I  know  from  the  History 
and  Rhetoric  professors  that  the  parents  themselves  would 
be  sorry  to  give  the  Pere  LoriquetV  books  to  their  children. 

1  It  will  be  seen  further  that  M.  Taine  entertained  some  delusions 
as  to  the  benevolence  of  his  Nivernese  surroundings, 
3  Pere  Loriquet,  a  Jesuit,  b.  1767,  d.  1845,  wrote  many  elementary 

170 


PROFESSORSHIP 

They  belong  to  this  century  in  spite  of  themselves.  They 
speak  well  of  the  little  seminary  by  the  city  gates,  but  it 
would  disgust  them  to  make  priests  of  their  sons.  One 
can  teach  them  science,  give  them  historical  and  philoso- 
phical facts,  make  them  understand  the  most  irreligious 
civilizations — those  of  Greece  and  Rome.  The  moral  effect 
remains  the  same  ;  it  is  enough  not  to  formulate  the  con- 
sequences of  it,  or  rather  not  to  do  so  in  newspaper  phrase- 
ology. The  parents  are  too  stupid  to  see  anything,  and 
the  boys,  following  the  excellent  inclinations  of  the  excellent 
human  race,  are  too  much  disposed  towards  revolt  not  to 
receive  the  spirit  of  it. 

Religion  and  loyalty  are  now  but  superannuated  cus- 
toms ;  even  for  the  most  fanatical,  Education  prepares 
the  coming  world  and  destroys  the  past.  Children  are 
everywhere  treated  as  their  parents'  equals ;  they  are 
allowed  to  take  part  in  conversation,  treated  like  friends  ; 
their  first  impulses  towards  freedom  are  encouraged  ;  from 
the  cradle  they  breathe  liberty  and  equality.  Ask  old 
people  what  their  education  was  !  We  find  accomplices 
in  the  parents ;  outwardly  oppressed  and  apparently 
compressed,  Education  is  at  bottom  as  liberal  as  can  be 
wished. 

Those  are  my  principal  reasons,  my  dear  fellow.  Seen 
at  close  quarters,  things  are  not  so  black  as  they  are  be- 
lieved to  be  at  the  Boole.  As  to  your  fears  for  the  ogre- 
gation,  they  are  needless  with  your  magnificent  French 
and  M.  Dubois  for  a  judge.  Were  you  not  first  in  Greek 

books,  one  of  which,  a  History  of  France,  of  an  incredible  and 
notorious  partiality,  was  much  in  use  in  ecclesiastical  boarding- 
schools  under  the  Restoration. 

171 


LIFE   AND   LETTERS   OF   H.   TAINE 

at  the  licentiate  exam.  ?  Your  only  serious  competitors 
are  Sarcey,  Dupre,  Gaucher,  and  Marot,  and  there  are  nine 
places.  It  is  probable  that  the  agregation  for  Letters  will 
last  since  it  has  been  proposed.  So  here  is  another  but  to 
add  to  the  buts  which  worry  you.1  What  do  you  say  to 
the  hope  of  finding  yourself  next  year  with  some  of  your 
friends,  Edouard,  Levasseur,  Greard,  and  another  whom 
I  dare  not  name,  and  who  would  be  very  happy,  you  may 
be  sure.  How  we  would  sap  away,  old  chap,  if  we 
could  find  some  virgin  soil  to  dig  together  in  the  solitude 
of  the  provinces  !  There  is  some  to  be  found  everywhere. 
Do  you  remember  the  old  times  in  the  Rhetoric  class  ?  I 
have  never  been  so  happy  since. 

I  insist  on  your  going,  not  to  see  Planat  perhaps,  but  at 
least  to  inquire  at  his  door  whether  he  still  lives  there. 
His  house  is  on  your  way  when  you  go  to  your  father's. 
I  have  written  to  him  three  times  without  getting  any 
answer !  By  the  bye,  you  might  write  longer  letters,  you 
only  write  on  three  sides  of  the  notepaper  !  !  Remember 
that  I  read  your  letters  three  or  four  times  ;  I  am  deprived 
of  any  sort  of  conversation. 


To  Mademoiselle  Sophie  Taine. 

February  15,  1852. 

I  am  glad  you  are  enjoying  yourselves  ;  the  home  really 
is  where  one's  relations  are,  and  it  is  impossible  not  to  be 
happy  when  one  is  so  affectionately  received.2  I  also  have 

1  See  Greard,  i.  p.  190. 

a  Mme.  and  Miles.  Taine  were  at  Sedan,  staying  with  M.  Auguste 
Bezanson. 

172 


PROFESSORSHIP 

known    that    charming    hospitality ;    those    days    were 
amongst  the  pleasantest  in  my  life. 

Nothing  new  here ;  my  life  is  perfectly  monotonous. 
I  may  tell  you  that  I  am  finishing  the  third  volume  of 
Hegel  (the  Logic),  that  I  have  prepared  part  of  my  thesis, 
and  a  quarter  of  my  agregation.  Insipid  news,  and  only 
fit  for  owls  like  myself.  This  owl  of  yours  went  the  other 
day  to  the  Prefecture  ball  and  did  not  have  the  courage 
to  dance  in  the  crush.  When  I  saw  the  eternal  smile  of 
the  ladies  and  heard  the  honeyed  words  of  their  partners 
I  found  nothing  better  to  do  than  to  watch  that  mockery 
of  pleasure,  that  comedy  of  ennui.  People  had  come  to 
the  ball  from  twelve  leagues  away.  I  am  still  yawning 
from  the  effects  of  it ;  but  having  done  my  duty,  I  am 
now  free. 

I  am  still  awaiting  an  answer  from  the  incumbent  of 
the  Philosophy  professorship.  I  am  told  that  I  shall 
probably  remain,  and  it  seems  likely  I  shall  not  be 
able  to  go  to  Vouziers  in  August,  my  examinations  will 
prevent  it.  There  is  one  for  August  20,  and  another 
for  September  15  or  20.  I  shall  be  obliged  to  work  in 
the  interval.  The  future  is  uncertain.  We  depend  on  the 
caprice  of  the  master,  and  we  are  awaiting  his  law  on  Edu- 
cation. Nobody  doubts  that  there  will  be  great  changes 
in  History  and  Philosophy.  Will  Education  be  placed 
in  the  hands  of  the  Congregations  or  under  the  super- 
vision of  the  Bishops  ?  Will  M.  de  Montalembert  be  our 
Minister  ?  Our  conjectures  hesitate  between  all  these 
possible  misfortunes.  We  are  the  vanquished,  and  we 
naturally  pay  the  costs.  My  friend  Prevost  wants  to  leave 
the  Universite.  M.  About  has  had  the  sense  to  go  off  to 

173 


LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF  H.  TAINE 

Greece.  I  shall  stay  on  as  long  as  I  am  not  dismissed. 
I  have  found  in  the  library  some  books  on  Zoology  and 
the  Artiste  newspaper.  It  reminds  me  of  Paris,  of  the 
Exhibition,  of  painting  and  of  music.  It  helps  me  to 
escape  on  Sundays  from  Nivernese  prose.  I  spend  the 
rest  of  the  day  at  the  piano,  and  I  improvise  ;  that  is  to 
say,  I  let  my  fingers  wander  into  any  chords  or  fancies 
which  come  to  them.  I  often  dream  of  other  things  whilst 
doing  it,  but  it  is  an  accompaniment  for  my  ideas,  and  it 
is  very  sweet  to  think  to  music.  But  my  mind  is  else- 
where. I  cannot  practise  seriously  or  improve.  I  only 
look  upon  it  as  a  relaxation,  and  I  am  glad  to  be  a  good 
enough  pianist  to  play  other  things  than  quadrilles.  Music 
is  for  others  but  a  source  of  vanity,  but  I  find  pleasure  in  it. 

To  Prevost-ParadoL 

February  22,  1852. 

See  how  punctual  I  am  ;  I  answer  you  on  the  very 
day  !  Do  not  thank  me  for  it,  though ;  I  am  so  lonely, 
so  much  in  want  of  intercourse  with  a  friend  that  I  pounce 
on  your  letters  as  soon  as  they  arrive,  and  read  them  over 
three  or  four  times,  so  as  to  hear  human  language  once 
again. 

Alas,  my  poor  friend,  I,  like  you,  am  struggling  in  the 
most  marshy  depths  of  the  bog  of  melancholy. 

I  am  bored  to  an  excess  which  you  have  never  known. 
Happy  man,  you  have  Greard  !  l  I  feel  how  much  you 
must  love  that  dear,  charming  fellow.  What  would  I 

1  Greard,  p.  191  :  "I  have  here  a  treasure  which  I  use  to  excess  : 
that  is  Greard,  my  refuge." 

174 


PROFESSORSHIP 

not  give  for  one  day's  conversation  with  some  one  like 
him  or  like  you  !  But  here  I  am  everlastingly  thrown 
back  on  myself,  and  I  am  not  very  good  company,  far 
from  it !  The  execrable  necessity  of  Latin  dissertations 
and  Greek  accentuation  holds  me  by  the  throat.  When 
I  return,  tired  and  disgusted  with  the  stupidity  of  the  six- 
teen little  duffers  I  am  catechizing,  I  have  to  start  on  the 
agregation  again.  I  seem  to  be  living  backwards,  and 
going  back  to  school  to  write  impositions  and  get  my 
knuckles  caned.  And,  far  away  in  the  background, 
glimpses  of  beautiful  ideas,  an  infinite  world  beyond  the 
Rhine,  are  beckoning  to  me,  and  I  must  let  them  fade  in 
the  darkness.  Oh  !  what  a  life  !  ! 

I  have  not  heard  from  Eldouard ;  his  last  letter  was 
dated  January  8.  Mine  to  him  cannot  have  been  stopped  ! 
It  was  about  philosophy,  and  included  the  driest  formulae 
I  have  found  in  psychology.  Not  a  word  from  Edmond. 
nor  from  anybody.  I  absolutely  request  that  you  should 
go  to  Planat's  rooms  and  ask  if  he  is  still  living  there, 
and  also  that  you  should  tell  me  if  his  paper  is  still  going, 
and  if  he  is  earning  his  living.  Perhaps,  dear  old  friend, 
I  may  have  in  about  five  weeks  the  greatest  pleasure  I 
can  hope  for.  It  seems  that  the  Rector  has  had  the  kind- 
ness and  good  taste  not  to  mention  to  the  Minister  my 
refusal  to  sign  that  adhesion  I  told  you  about ;  he  also 
wishes  me  to  finish  the  year  here — my  commission  is  only 
for  six  months,  you  know.  Well,  he  Is  going  to  ask  the 
incumbent  to  prolong  his  leave  for  another  six  months. 
If  I  stay  here,  instead  of  being  sent  Heaven  knows  where, 
I  shall  take  advantage  of  the  Easter  holidays  to  go  and 
see  my  mother,  and  to  spend  a  day  in  Paris.  I  shall  let 

175 


LIFE   AND   LETTERS   OF   H.   TAINE 

you  know  when  I  am  coming.  You  will  take  me  to  the 
Exhibition,  and  we  will  have  a  good  talk — for  I  suppose 
that  I  have  not  had  the  same  misfortune  as  poor  N.,  and 
that  you  will  not  avoid  me  as  a  provincial  pedant. 

Whatever  you  may  say,  if  we  both  were  agreges,  the 
university  life  would  be  bearable.  We  should  not  be 
thrown  into  a  hole  of  a  communal  college  like  Nevers  (you 
should  not  put  lycee  on  your  letters  !),  and  there  might 
then  be  a  chance  of  meeting  with  a  friend  from  the  Ecole. 
A  congenial  companion,  solitude,  leisure,  no  more  agre- 
gations,  some  philosophy  and  some  natural  history — think 
of  that !  It  is  my  Promised  Land,  in  the  air  of  which  I 
build  thousands  of  castles,  all  by  myself,  alas,  without  a 
Greard  !  How  fortunate  you  are  in  having  him,  and  what 
a  lot  of  good  Edouard,  my  patient  consoler,  did  me,  especi- 
ally during  the  black  days  of  my  first  year. 

Poor  old  Edouard  !  I  love  him  in  silence  and  at  a  dis- 
tance !  Has  he  too  forgotten  me  ? 

I  read  Musset  and  Marcus  Aurelius  to  cheer  me.  A 
strange  mixture,  is  it  not  ?  but  I  find  all  my  troubles  in 
the  one,  whilst  the  other  speaks  to  me  of  the  universal 
remedy,  the  great  Thought  of  Antiquity,  TO  p-qSevelvai. 

It  is  the  most  efficacious  antidote  against  spleen  that 
I  have  yet  found.  It  rests  and  soothes  the  soul,  like  the 
thought  of  bedtime  during  a  tiring  day.  Add  to  it 
mechanical  work  which  kills  reflection  and  absorbs  bore- 
dom in  exhaustion.  I  know  that  I  am  thought  to  live 
the  queerest  life  here,  shut  up  day  and  night,  with  no 
society  or  pleasure.  But  it  is  the  only  sort  of  life  I 
can  bear. 

I  am  looking  forward  to  the  spring  which  will  bring  some 

176 


PROFESSORSHIP 

beauty  with  it.  For  the  last  five  months  I  have  seen 
nothing  but  ugliness,  muddy  roads,  narrow  and  dirty 
streets,  no  music,  no  pictures,  no  pretty  faces.  The  trees 
and  sunshine  will  make  up  for  it  all. 

I  wrote  to  N.  because  I  had  promised  I  should  ;  he  was 
more  than  friendly  to  me  at  the  time  of  my  non-agregation 
and  I  owed  him  some  courtesy.  But  I  feel,  as  you  do,  that 
there  is  not  much  sympathy  between  us.  There  is  no  one 
here  with  whom  to  practise  argumentation,  and  I  cannot 
debate  with  myself ;  it  is  a  great  disadvantage,  but  after 
all,  there  are  nine  places,  and  ...  I  will  not  think  of  the 
horrible  necessity  of  working  next  year  at  a  third  agregation. 
If  you  can,  let  me  have  a  few  hints  as  to  books,  etc. 

I  shall  try  and  procure  the  number  of  February  12.1  The 
author  seems  to  write  in  every  periodical !  !  !  When  will 
Bernardin  receive  a  medal  ? 

Did  Edmond  give  you  for  me  before  he  left  a  paper  of 
mine  about  Greece  ?  I  will  write  to  Ed.  one  of  these  days. 
Tell  Crousle  to  answer  my  letter. 

To  Edouard  de  Suckau. 

February  25,  1852. 

DEAR  ED., — Your  last  letter  was  written  on  January  8. 
What  answer  dare  you  make  to  such  eloquent  dates  ?  Be- 
cause, Sir,  you  are  an  illustrious  Professor  in  an  illustrious 
National  or  Royal  lycee,  do  you  attribute  to  yourself  the 
right  of  forgetting  the  Nivernese  lout  whom  you  have 
honoured  with  your  good  graces.  It  is  not  likely  that  my 

1  Number  of  the  Revue  de  F Instruction  Publique,  in  which  Pre>ost- 
Paradol  had  published  an  anonymous  article  on  M.  de  Montalem- 
bert's  reception  at  the  Academic  Franraise. 

177  N 


LIFE   AND   LETTERS   OF  H.   TAINE 

last  letter  has  been  intercepted ;  their  Lordships  of  the 
Post  Office  or  of  the  Prefecture  cannot  have  been  very 
anxious  to  read  the  psychological  abstractions  that  I  was 
sending  you. 

You  are  not  short  of  time  ;  you  have  not,  like  me,  two 
lectures  a  day,  plus  an  agregation  to  prepare .  Has  Stephanese 
soup  the  properties  of  the  waters  of  Lethe  ?  Prevost 
tells  me  that  your  correspondence  with  him  is  interrupted 
by  Governmental  curiosity.  He  wrote  to  you  at  the  begin- 
ning of  the  month  and  has  received  nothing  in  return. 
Our  letters  stopped  !  !  !  We  are  pretty  conspirators  !  Will 
Anatole's  endearments  and  my  syllogisms  blow  up  the 
Government  ?  It  is  not  enough  to  be  a  master,  one  must 
also  be  a  fool !  What  people,  and  what  times !  Anatole 
is  sad  usque  ad  mortem,  discord  reigns  in  his  Section,  he  is 
disgusted  with  the  University  and  desires  to  leave  it ;  I 
send  him  magnificent  and  most  parliamentary  remon- 
strances, which  he  treats  a  la  Louis  XIV.  I  prove  to  him 
scientifically  that  no  profession  will  give  him  enough  to 
live  on  for  three  hours'  work  a  day.  He  answers  nothing 
and  goes  on.  W?  live  in  different  worlds  which  cannot 
touch  each  other — he  in  that  of  the  nerves  and  I  in  that 
of  the  brain  ;  he  reasons  electrically  and  I  pedantically  ;  he 
reasons  with  an  irritated,  rebounding  sensitiveness  and  I 
with  the  phlegm  of  a  Rector  attended  by  the  four  Faculties. 
Nothing  is  more  comical  than  that  exchange  of  letters, 
neither  of  us  answering  the  other.  I  understand  him  and 
approve  of  him  ;  does  he  do  the  same  concerning  me  ? 
What  does  he  tell  you,  or  rather  what  used  he  to  say  ?  I 
agree  with  him  that  the  agregation  is  revolting,  and  I  quail 
when  I  think  that  I  may  have  to  start  again.  Anatole  is 

178 


PROFESSORSHIP 

deep  in  a  new  friendship,  with  our  nice  Greard.  They  are 
lucky  to  be  sad  together.  Dear  Edouard,  when  can  I  tell 
you  all  my  Qprjvot,  oa,  oa,  oa,  etc.  ?  I  yawn,  I  Wertherize, 
I  Byronize,  I  wish  myself  at  the  bottom  of  the  Red  Sea — 
good  old  Red  Sea  !  But  it  was  only  half  bad  when  we 
wished  ourselves  at  the  bottom  of  it  together. 

Nothing  from  Edmond  or  from  anybody.  The  Sun  of 
Friendship  goeth  down,  like  that  of  Intelligence  (a  fine 
phrase,  don't  you  think,  quite  the  thing  for  the  agrega- 
tion).  I  feel  more  lonely  every  day,  and  in  this  glorious 
country,  where  imbecility  is  in  full  bloom,  it  seems  to  me 
that  I  bear  buds  and  flowers  equally  with  the  rest.  Yet  I 
have  read  the  last  volume  of  Hegel's  Logic.  Alas,  another 
lost  illusion  !  It  is  great,  but  it  is  not  true  Metaphysics  ; 
the  method  is  artificial,  and  that  much-lauded  Construc- 
tion of  the  Absolute  is  useless.  Still,  here  is  material  for 
my  thesis.  But  you,  what  are  you  doing  ?  What  are 
you  studying  ?  What  say  your  sous-prefet,  your  proviseur, 
your  pupils,  your  dog,  your  cat,  your  bed-maker,  and  your- 
self ? 

Send  me  your  confidences,  old  fellow,  and  let  us  gossip. 
There  is  nothing  better  in  this  world. 

To  Mademoiselle  Virginie  Taine. 

February  26,  1852. 

...  I  see  that  you  prefer  painting  to  everything  else. 
I  value  your  artistic  tastes  and  advise  you  to  remain  faith- 
ful to  your  abilities  and  education  ;  I  should  be  sorry  if 
you  were  ever  to  forget  your  love  for  beautiful  things  and 
for  serious  and  exalted  occupations.  I  hope  that,  in  what- 
ever situation  Fate  may  have  in  store  for  you,  you  will 

179 


LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF  H.  TAINE 

preserve  your  sense  of  Colour,  Light,  Form,  Poetry,  and 
all  that  can  raise  the  mind  above  the  insipid  vulgarities 
of  ordinary  life.  But,  my  dear  girl,  I  can  only  repeat 
what  I  have  said  so  often.  Do  you  know  whether  or  not 
you  are  an  artist  ?  You  will  have  a  charming  accomplish- 
ment, a  noble  and  agreeable  occupation  in  your  home. 
Is  it  not  better  than  to  grovel  in  the  crowd  of  professional 
painters  of  both  sexes  ?  Remember  that  there  are  in  France 
ten  or  twelve  thousand  of  these.  Can  you  hope  to  take 
a  conspicuous  place  amongst  them  ?  You  have  delicate 
health  ;  you  are  a  woman,  a  lady,  and  you  cannot  go  in 
for  the  sort  of  study  which  is  necessary  to  earn  a  name  in 
Art.  You  cannot  live  the  tempestuous,  mobile  and  licen- 
tious life  without  which  Imagination  languishes  and  Genius 
grows  faint. 

Consider  all  this,  dear,  do.  I  know  that  my  words 
wound  you  and  interrupt  a  lovely  dream.  But  it  is  from 
sheer  friendship  and  affection.  You  do  not  know  the 
world  ;  you  cannot  compare  the  struggling,  troubled  and 
miserable  life  of  those  who  try  to  emerge  from  the  ordinary 
level  to  the  peaceful  and  happy  life  of  those  who  remain 
within  the  beaten  track  and  adorn  its  monotony  with  refined 
occupations.  Sometimes  I  repent  that  I  took  the  first  course. 
There  are  moments  of  spleen,  diffidence  and  prostration, 
when  I  feel  that  I  would  prefer  to  be  a  quiet  Professor  in 
some  retired  corner  to  having  to  struggle  to  find,  to  publish, 
and  to  establish  new  ideas.  I  can  easily  understand  the 
state  of  your  mind  ;  you  are  in  an  enthusiastic  mood 
caused  by  the  consciousness  of  your  progress,  and  the  well- 
deserved  praises  accorded  to  your  work.  Escape  from 
this  mood  and  consider  in  cold  blood  the  necessities  of 

180 


PROFESSORSHIP 

a  woman's  life.  Act  like  a  man,  and  forget  this  momentary 
passion ;  the  consciousness  of  your  reasonableness  and 
courage  will  be  a  sufficient  consolation. 

I  am  an  everlasting  preacher,  you  see,  and  I  profess 
Philosophy  in  my  letters  as  well  as  in  my  chair.  But 
you  have  acquired  the  habit  of  hearing  me  !  ! 

Nothing  new  at  Nevers.  The  Rector  is  still  keeping  me 
waiting  for  an  answer ;  I  suppose  I  shall  have  to  put  the 
question  to  him  myself.  I  play  the  piano,  and  now  and 
then  I  talk  with  a  young  painter  who  lends  me  books  on 
painting,  drawing,  etc.  I  go  out  into  the  fields  and  think 
of  you  as  I  look  at  the  sky ;  I  am  sure  there  are  a  great 
many  subjects  for  landscapes  just  now.  The  dull  colour 
of  the  meadows,  the  desolate  aspect  of  the  whole  country- 
side, the  grey  and  varied  tints  of  the  clouds  would  look 
well  in  a  picture.  There  is  feeling,  soul  and  colour  in  it 
all.  Is  it  not  enough  ? 

The  more  I  see  Nature  and  the  fields,  the  better  I  love 
them ;  they  seem  to  have  more  intelligence,  more  soul 
than  man. 

To  Edouard  de  Suckau. 

March  10,  1852. 

DEAR  DoN,1 — I  was  awaiting  that  second  letter,  In  which 
you  had  promised  to  give  me  so  many  details  and  confi- 
dences. It  has  not  come,  and  I  am  writing  to  ask  for 
it.  ... 

Think  of  me,  old  fellow,  and  write  to  me  often ;    do 

write,  I  really  need  it.     I  am  in  an  incredible  state  of  mind. 

Remember  my  disgust  and  sadness  during  the  black  days 

of  my  first  year  at  the  Ecole  Normale  ;  multiply  them  ten- 

1  In  English  in  the  original. 

181 


LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF  H.  TAINE 

fold,  and  you  will  not  yet  have  an  idea  of  what  I  feel.  Do 
you  remember  those  moments  when  I  found  no  consolation 
but  in  the  Thought  of  the  reQvdvai.  Now  I  am  lower 
still,  and  habitually  so.  Until  now  I  have  bravely  fought 
ennui  by  working.  You  know  what  I  have  done  in 
psychology.  I  have  read  the  whole  of  Hegel's  Logic,  and 
now  only  have  to  write.  But  this  last  resource  is  failing 
me.  I  am  not  well,  and  in  such  depressed  spirits  that  I 
find  it  impossible  to  string  two  ideas  together.  My  last 
refuge  against  myself  has  perished. 

I  cannot  think  about  myself  or  anything  else  without 
disgust.  Now  and  then  I  have  a  flicker  of  philosophy,  by 
an  effort  of  will,  and  then  fall  back  on  myself — what  a 
pillow !  !  The  conversation  of  those  who  surround  me 
bores  me  to  death  ;  I  can  speak  neither  of  exalted  ideas 
or  intimate  things.  I  prefer  my  free  and  solitary  ennui 
to  the  constrained  boredom  of  society.  I  feel  like  an  old 
machine,  all  out  of  order,  still  going  from  mere  habit,  and 
in  whom  blurred  sensations  leave  but  a  universal  sickening. 
There  are  days  when  I  am  so  sick  of  myself  that  I  should 
like  to  throw  myself  away.  If  I  were  in  Paris  I  would  go 
to  the  dissecting  theatre  or  attend  surgical  operations  in 
order  to  revive  my  slumbering  faculties  ;  but  I  am  choking 
in  this  provincial  atmosphere ;  the  universal  platitude 
of  men,  of  events  and  of  things,  the  soporific  preparation 
of  the  Literature  agregation,  the  forced  solitude  in  which 
I  confine  myself,  the  insipidity  of  an  elementary  class, 
and  the  deprivation  of  my  friends  and  companions  of 
study  throw  me  into  a  painful  numbness,  and  into  a 
sort  of  nightmare  in  which  I  have  the  agitation  and  in- 
ward suffering  of  an  active  life,  without  the  comfort  en- 

182 


PROFESSORSHIP 

joyed  by  the  human  lizards  who  are  basking  in  the  sun 
by  my  side. 

I  am  well  punished  for  those  proud  dreams  which  made 
me  seek  happiness  in  studious  solitude  !  A  proud  solitary 
cannot  live  alone.  We  do  not  know  how  to  enjoy  the  good 
things  we  breathe  every  day.  Transported  from  a  think- 
ing and  loving  atmosphere  into  this  heavy  element  of 
indifference  and  stupidity,  I  now  feel  how  much  the  former 
was  necessary  to  me.  I  did  not  know  it  because  it  had 
never  failed  me.  And  will  this  last  all  our  lives  ?  Paris 
is  closed  to  me  for  ever.  The  ambitious  delusions  of 
adolescence  have  fled,  and  I  feel  that  I  am  condemned 
for  ever  to  a  mean  position  and  to  flat  surroundings. 

How  are  you  ?  Are  you  too  feeling  something  like  the 
moral  asphyxia  which  I  am  describing  to  you  ?  I  have 
struggled  so  far,  but  now  I  am  overwhelmed,  and  I  live 
but  for  the  hope  of  a  fortnight's  holiday  at  Easter.  My 
assistantship  is  only  for  six  months  ;  but  if  the  Minister 
makes  me  stay  on  here,  I  shall  take  my  flight  and  run  to 
my  mother's  arms.  I  am  mad,  really  ;  I  have  a  passionate 
wish  to  embrace  some  one  I  love.  It  would  be  an  ineffable 
joy  to  shake  you  by  the  hand,  and  a  letter  from  one  of  you 
is  an  evening's  happiness.  Can  you  conceive  it  ?  What 
have  I  come  to  ?  Dear  old  fellow,  leaving  you  made  me 
realize  how  much  I  wanted  you.  I  am  inwardly  con- 
sumed by  unregulated  and  objectless  action,  or  else  I 
am  weighed  down  by  dolorous  inertia.  I  can  find  no 
remedy  outside,  for  society  increases  my  depression,  and 
pleasure  my  disgust.  My  aching  brain  prevents  me  from 
finding  a  relief  in  work. 

Come,  dear  Sister  of  Mercy,  send  me  a  soothing  and 

183 


LIFE    AND   LETTERS   OF   H.   TAINE 

strengthening  potion ;  no  reproaches  ;  I  am  reproaching 
myself  constantly,  and  each  reproach  is  like  a  spur  urging 
me  to  a  convulsive  bound  before  a  heavier  fall.  Write 
whatever  you  like.  The  mere  sight  of  your  handwriting 
will  do  me  good. 

Do  you  think  I  shall  become  resigned  and  used  to  the 
provinces  after  four  or  five  years  of  this  ? 

To  Mademoiselle  Virginie  Taine. 

March  18,  1852. 

I  feel  bitterly  what  it  is  to  be  forlorn,  and  I  do  not  foresee 
when  I  shall  be  reconciled  to  provincial  and  solitary  life. 
I  am  rather  tired  just  now  and  not  feeling  well.  The 
change  of  season  is  the  cause  of  it.  So  I  remain  idle  by 
my  fireside,  or  else  walk  out  in  the  fields,  warming  myself 
in  the  first  sunbeams  of  the  spring. 

I  am  writing  to  Uncle  Adolphe  to  ask  his  advice  and  his 
opinion  as  to  the  fate  of  the  University.  M.  Dubois,  the 
former  Director  of  the  Ecole  Normale,  and  M.  Cousin,  have 
just  been  turned  out  of  the  Superior  Council  of  Public  Instruc- 
tion, and  the  Public  Competition  for  the  Professors'  Chairs 
in  the  Faculties  is  suppressed.  My  profession  is  now  the 
worst  of  all,  but  it  is  too  late  to  think  of  taking  another ; 
I  cannot  be  anything  but  a  savant.  I  should  die  if  I  had 
to  shut  myself  up  in  a  law-shop  or  anywhere  else.  The 
habit  of  thinking  cannot  be  lost.  I  shall  certainly  be  poor 
and  perhaps  in  an  Inferior  social  situation ;  but  I  shall 
read,  speak  and  write,  and  the  most  distinguished  men  of 
our  time  have  had  no  other  beginnings. 

I  am  sorry  that  you  will  not  go  to  dances  or  parties  ; 
why  not  ?  Do  you  think  it  is  not  necessary  for  a  woman 

184 


PROFESSORSHIP 

to  know  something  of  the  world,  of  conversation,  and  the 
manners  of  Society  ?  Besides,  it  is  an  opportunity  of 
knowing  the  point  of  view  of  those  amongst  whom  you 
must  live  ;  and  what  is  more,  it  is  an  opportunity  of 
taking  some  recreation  and  of  bringing  some  diversity  in 
the  monotony  of  daily  life.  Follow  my  example.  I  must 
go  on  Monday  to  the  Prefecture  to  hear  a  vocal  and  instru- 
mental amateur  concert,  for  the  benefit  of  the  poor.  I 
don't  think  much  of  the  music,  but  I  shall  look  at  the  faces 
and  figures  ;  I  shall  learn  something,  and  perhaps  laugh. 
No  answer  from  our  Universitarian  pacha  ;  I  have  not  been 
informed  as  to  whether  or  not  I  must  stay  here.  My 
journey  to  Vouziers  is  still  uncertain.  I  am  not  sure, 
whatever  you  may  say,  that  you  paint  much  better  than 
when  I  left  you.  Try  some  personal  composition,  especi- 
ally, if  you  can,  some  view  of  the  fields.  Nothing  in  the 
world  is  more  beautiful. 

To  M.  Ernest  Havet. 

March  24,  1852. 

How  very  kind  of  you,  Sir,  to  remember  a  student  whom 
you  saw  during  three  months  at  the  Ecole  Normale  ! 
Here,  I  am  as  one  dead,  deprived  of  conversation  and  of 
any  exchange  of  thoughts  ;  it  seems  to  me  ten  years  since 
I  left  Paris.  Your  book1  brought  me  back  for  one  day 
to  life  and  to  the  world.  Those  are  indeed  the  questions 
that  we  used  to  agitate  in  that  beloved  Home  of  Intellect 
during  those  three  years  when  we  were  allowed  to  think 
and  to  discuss.  Such  books  are  necessary  ;  to  write  them 

1  On  Pascal's  Pensees. 
185 


LIFE   AND   LETTERS   OF   H.    TAINE 

is  to  do  political  work  and  useful  propaganda ;  it  is,  as 
Michelet  says,  pointing  again  to  the  pale  countenance  of 
Jesus  crucified.  The  past  world  is  being  marked  and  dis- 
figured, and  they  only  who  have  lived  among  the  dusty 
tomes  of  the  Fathers  know  it  in  all  its  horror.  The  Jan- 
senists  are  the  real  writers  of  Christianity,  as  Murillo 
and  Zurbaran  are  its  real  painters  ;  they  are  the  true 
disciples  of  St.  Augustine  and  St.  Paul ;  and  Pascal,  a 
sincere  man,  speaks,  like  them,  of  the  mass  of  perdition, 
and  of  fatal  Predestination — that  infection  of  human 
nature.  We  shudder  when  reading  Dante,  and  Dante  is 
gentle  and  moderate  in  comparison  with  St.  Augustine's 
dreadful  treatises  on  Grace  and  with  that  invincible 
dialectic  which  precipitates  the  world  into  Hell.  I  do 
not  know  whether  you  intended  it,  but  your  book  is  an 
admirable  polemical  tract,  and,  now  that  I  am  away  from 
the  Ecole  and  languishing  far  from  Liberty  and  Science, 
I  see  at  close  quarters  the  evil  which  is  attacking  us,  and 
ardently  desire  the  publication  of  more  such  writings. 

I  am  trying  to  console  myself  for  the  present  by  reading 
German  writers.  They  are  to  us  what  England  was  to 
France  in  the  time  of  Voltaire.  I  find  in  them  a  whole 
century's  stock  of  ideas,  and,  were  it  not  for  my  anxieties 
respecting  the  agr&gation  of  Letters,  which  I  am  going  to 
attempt  next  year,  I  should  find  sufficient  rest  and  occu- 
pation in  the  company  of  those  great  thinkers.  Ideas 
have  at  least  that  advantage,  that  they  make  us  brothers 
and  let  us  all  participate  in  the  joy  which  a  great  book 
causes.  You  have  just  proved  it  to  me  once  again,  Sir. 
I  thank  you  again,  and  beg  you  to  believe  that  I  am  now 
leaving  you  but  to  resume  my  interrupted  reading. 

386 


PROFESSORSHIP 

Kindly  receive,  Sir,  the  expression  of  my  respect  and 
devotion. 


To  Pervost-Paradol. 

March  28,  1852. 

Illustrious  Sir,  receive  my  sincere  congratulations.  An 
author  ! '  a  paid  author !  An  author  in  Paris,  a  future 
laureate  of  the  Academie  des  Sciences  Morales,  and  of  the 
Academic  Frangaise !  Your  triple  crown  enchants  me, 
and  I  have  but  to  beseech  you  to  bestow  from  time  to 
time  your  glorious  glances  towards  your  unfortunate 
friend,  who,  whilst  you  are  triumphing  on  high,  tramps 
now  and  for  ever  in  the  mire  below. 

Seriously,  I  envy  you  from  the  bottom  of  my  soul ! 
But  tell  me  what  I  am  to  do  ?  I  imagine  the  Litera- 
ture agregation  will  still  go  on  this  year  under  the  former 
conditions  ? 2  Do  you  know  anything  about  it  ?  And 
should  I  continue  to  prepare  for  it  ?  What  an  uncertain 
and  miserable  life !  and  if  there  were  a  Providence,  why 
did  It  not  make  me  come  into  the  world  with  an  income 
of  2,000  fr.  ?  How  I  would  have  renounced  the  grandeur 

1  Greard,  p.  193.  Prevost-Paradol  had  just  signed  an  agreement 
with  Hachette,  the  publisher,  concerning  a  book  entitled  Revue  de 
I'Histoire  Universelle,  which  appeared  in  1854; 
_  a  Greard,  p.  192 :  "  I  tell  you  in  confidence  that  the  scheme  of 
study  proposed  by  the  Minister  to  the  Council  of  the  University, 
which  may  be  considered  as  final,  has  fixed  the  age  of  twenty-five  for 
the  agregation,  which,  under  the  name  of  agregation  of  Letters, 
comprises  History,  Rhetoric,  and  Grammar,  the  three  being  turned 
into  one."-  It  will  be  seen  further  that  the  agregation  des  lettres 
was  suppressed  for  the  year  1852. 

187 


LIFE   AND   LETTERS   OF   H.    TAINE 

of  Professorship  and  let  the  scribblers  scream  who  are  now 
larding  us  with  pin-pricks  !  What  a  stupid  calling  is  that 
of  a  martyr  !  I  do  not  even  know  whether  I  shall  be  here 
until  the  end  of  the  year.  I  have  asked  M.  Vacherot  to  get 
me  an  answer  at  once.  If  you  see  him,  ask  him  whether 
M.  Lesieur  has  said  nothing.  My  Easter  trip  depends  on  the 
answer.  If  it  is  affirmative,  how  pleased  I  shall  be  to 
go  and  see  you  on  my  way.  I  am  hungering  for  friendship 
and  getting  stifled  here  ;  I  am  a  prey  to  spleen  half  the 
week.  I  write  disconsolate  letters  to  Suckau.  I  long  to 
be  at  the  bottom  of  the  Red  Sea.  We  are  all  the  same. 
A  circular  from  Edmond  (About)  which  has  reached  me 
was  like  one  of  Jeremiah's  Lamentations.  If  there  were 
two  of  us,  in  any  country,  I  should  feel  as  if  the  Heavens 
were  opening. 

How  did  you  get  to  know  the  Bashaw  of  booksellers  ? 
He  is  a  regular  client  for  you.  I  see  there  is  another  article 
by  you  (in  the  Revue  de  V Instruction  Publique)  on  Flourens' 
speech.  But,  Man  useful  to  Morals,  how  can  you  be 
useful  to  the  morals  which  are  extolled  nowadays,  and  yet 
write  a  book  ?  You  will  speak  of  progress  ?  But  Progress  is 
a  pure  pantheistic  abomination ;  ask  our  blessed  masters — 
Of  the  natural  and  personal  force  by  which  mankind  itself 
shapes  its  own  destiny  ?  But  that  is  denying  Providence 
and  Bossuet's  God,  the  great  Chess-player  whose  pawns 
we  are. — Of  the  necessary  and  regular  laws  which  rule  the 
world  ?  But  that  is  denying  Liberty,  M.  Cousin's  dear 
Liberty,  and  consequently  Hell,  etc.,  etc. 

You  will  have  to  take  an  oblique  road.  But  can  you 
remain  eloquent  under  half  a  mask  ?  Well,  I  have  every 
confidence  in  your  cleverness,  and  I  wish  the  Academy 

188 


PROFESSORSHIP 

may  be  immoral  enough  to  crown1  your  morality.  Tell 
me,  especially,  what  you  mean  to  do  about  the  six  last 
centuries,  for  they  contain  but  a  great  war  against  the 
Church  and  Dogma,  such  an  obvious  war  that  M.  Donoso 
Cortes  concludes  that  the  world  is  going  to  perdition,  and 
that  Christ  will  soon  visit  it  again  in  order  to  save  it. 

If  you  like,  I  will  bring  you  Hegel's  Philosophy  of  History 
for  the  summer  holidays,  and  you  will  see  there  some 
pyramids  of  ideas  fit  to  break  the  legs  of  any  Frenchman 
who  would  try  to  scale  them.  Indeed,  I  look  and  look, 
and  I  see  no  possible  science  but  in  the  shape  of  a  war. 
Lucien  Sorel2  has  said  so,  and  I  love  him  too  much  not  to 
endorse  his  ideas,  and  not  to  fear  that  they  may  bring  down 
the  thunder.  You  must  get  a  lightning-conductor,  old 
man,  for,  of  all  powder  magazines,  History  is  that  which 
explodes  most  easily. 

Crousle,  who  has  just  written  to  me,  does  not  seem  to 
know  of  your  design,  and  tells  me  that  the  Ecole  is  com- 
pletely upset.3  He  has  sprained  his  ankle  and  has  the 
spleen. 

The  best  representative  of  this  country,  my  dear  chap, 
is  the  Abbe  Gaume,  the  author  of  the  gnawing  worm  of 
which  your  review  speaks.  I  feel  it,  and  I  am  beginning 
to  gather  the  flowers  of  my  position.  A  sixteen-year  old 

1  PreVost-Paradol  intended  to  present  his  book  to  the  Academy 
of  Moral  and  Political  Science. 

a  PreVost-Paradol's  pseudonym  in  the  Liberte  de  Penser. 

3  Prevost-Paradol  announced  his  decision  of  leaving  the  Ecole. 
Extract  from  M.  Orousle's  letter  (March  27) :  "  It  is  becoming 
almost  impossible  to  work,  everybody  is  disgusted.  .  .  .  The 
Library  is  being  bowdlerized  further  .  .  .  volumes  of  Voltaire  and 
Rousseau  have  disappeared." 

189 


LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF  H.  TAINE 

scamp  of  a  noble  family,  who  was  head  of  the  class  last 
year,  having  now  dropped  to  being  tenth,  amused  himself 
by  saying  that  I  pronounced  a  eulogy  of  Danton  in  class, 
and  vindicated  his  wounded  vanity  by  calumnies.  Evil 
tongues  immediately  embellished  the  tale,  and  I  had  to 
justify  myself  to  the  Rector.  It  is  true  that  my  fifteen 
other  pupils  are  fond  of  me  ;  they  have  asked  the  Rector 
to  keep  me  till  the  end  of  the  year,  and  were  anxious  to 
lick  the  tale-bearer.  But  the  little  wretch  is  a  flaw  in  my 
armour,  and  whatever  I  may  do,  I  shall  soon  be  wounded 
by  all  the  darts  he  will  aim  at  me. 

Answer  me  before  the  Easter  holidays,  and  ask  M. 
Vacherot  to  answer  me  ;  if  I  stay  on  here  and  go  to  the 
Ardennes,  I  shall  let  you  know  on  which  day  I  can  see  you 
in  Paris.  And  Planat  ?  is  he  lost  ?  for  charity's  sake  tell 
me  of  him  !  We  were  a  Trinity  at  Bourbon  :  shall  one  of 
the  three  persons  perish  ?  The  artist  especially  !  ! 


The  Minister  of  Public  Education  to  H.  Taine. 

March  30,  1852. 

SIR, — The  Rector  of  the  Departmental  Academy  of  the 
Nievre,  in  announcing  to  you  my  decision  of  March  23, 
which  put  an  end  to  the  assistantship  with  which  you  were 
momentarily  entrusted  at  the  Nevers  College,  has  probably 
informed  you  that  I  proposed  to  give  you  another  destina- 
tion. By  a  decree  dated  March  19, 1  have  just  entrusted 
to  you  the  assistantship  of  the  Rhetoric  chair  at  the  lycee 
at  Poitiers.  It  was  after  carefully  acquainting  myself 
with  the  notes  which  concern  you  that  I  resolved  to  give 

190 


PROFESSORSHIP 

you  a  trial  in  a  branch  of  teaching  less  perilous  for  your 
future.  I  noticed,  in  fact,  that  your  philosophical  lessons 
at  Nevers  recalled  the  doctrines  for  which  you  were  justly 
reprimanded  at  the  beginning.  I  am  therefore  not  without 
some  anxiety  as  to  the  new  test  to  which  you  are  about 
to  be  subjected.  If  the  Rector  of  the  Academy  of  the 
Vienne,  whom  I  have  desired  to  keep  a  careful  watch  over 
your  lessons,  is  kind  enough  to  assist  you  with  his  advice 
I  urge  you  to  accept  it  with  deference  ;  under  the  enlight- 
ened direction  of  this  functionary,  you  will  succeed,  I  hope, 
in  untrammelling  your  teaching  from  doctrines  which,  at 
a  mature  age,  you  will  appreciate  more  justly,  and  which 
do  not  belong  to  the  domain  of  classical  studies. 

I  will  not  keep  from  you,  Sir,  the  fact  that,  if  this  test 
should  not  answer  my  expectations,  I  should  find  myself 
under  the  necessity  of  depriving  myself  of  your  services. 

You  are  invited  to  place  yourself  at  the  Rector's  disposal 
on  April  15.  This  functionary  will  deliver  to  you  a  certified 
copy  of  my  order. 

Receive,  Sir,  the  assurance  of  my  distinguished  con- 
sideration. 

The  Minister  of  Public  Education  and  Public  Worship. 

H.  FOETOUL. 

Extract  from  a  short  note  written  by  H.  Taine  to  his 
mother  : — 

April  3,  1852. 

I  am  appointed  as  an  assistant  in  Rhetoric  at  Poitiers. 
It  is  better  in  every  respect ;  but  the  Minister's  letter  is 
severe  and  threatening,  and  I  know  that  I  have  been 
directly  maligned  to  him. 

191 


LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF  H.  TAINE 

You  cannot  believe  how  indifferent  I  am  to  my  profession 
and  its  chances.  Whatever  happens  I  can  always  earn 
my  living  by  giving  private  lessons  in  Paris.  Perhaps 
being  discharged  is  the  best  thing  which  could  happen  to 
me. 


192 


CHAPTER  II 
Poitiers — Correspondence 

To  his  Mother. 
POITIERS,  6  RUE  DES  CARMELITES, 

April  13,  1852. 

I  receive  2,000  fr.  here,  plus  200  or  300  fr.  for  baccalaureat 
lectures.  I  am  settled  since  last  night  in  a  very  fine  room, 
perhaps  a  little  too  far  from  the  college.  You  see  I  have 
not  lost  by  the  change. 

I  have  found  here  one  of  my  Bourbon  school  friends, 
M.  Emile  Saigey,  who  is  a  telegraph  engineer.  He  is 
pleasant  and  witty,  and  I  shall  not  be  so  bored  as  at  Nevers. 

The  agregation  competitions,  announced  for  August  20, 
will  not  take  place.  The  Minister's  decree  states  that  the 
time  for  them  will  be  fixed  later  on,  which  vexes  me,  for 
they  will  then  take  place  according  to  the  new  regulations, 
which  demand  twenty-five  years  of  age,  five  years'  service, 
etc.,  all  which  I  have  not.  I  will  consult  the  Rector,  and 
in  any  case  work  vigorously  at  my  theses,  claim  the  appro- 
bation of  Paris  examiners,  and  try  to  become  a  Doctor  ; 
it  would  be  as  good  a  recommendation  as  being  an  agr&g&. 

I  am  paying  my  official  calls  to-day  ;  I  have  already 
seen  the  Proviscur  and  the  Chaplain.  I  do  not  think  I 

1U3  o 


LIFE   AND   LETTERS   OF   H.    TAINE 

shall  have  to  do  with  geniuses,  but  I  hope  they  are  not  a 
bad  sort. 

My  predecessor  is  leaving  his  class  for  a  Faculty  assistant- 
ship.  The  professor  whose  place  he  is  going  to  fill  is  trying 
for  an  appointment  at  Bordeaux  or  Paris.  In  this  case 
my  predecessor  may  obtain  the  vacancy  just  made,  and 
I  may  perhaps  get  his  place.  But  hang  uncertainties 
and  come  what  may  ! 

I  write  with  your  portrait  before  me.  How  kind  of 
Virginie  to  give  it  to  me  !  Suckau,  whom  I  saw  in  Paris 
for  a  moment,  tells  me  that  the  great  painters  did  not 
exhibit  on  account  of  the  jury,  and  that  the  Exhibition 
was  poor,  which  lessens  my  regrets. 


To  Edouard  de  Suckau. 

April  20,  1852. 

DEAR  ED., — I  read  your  first  page  with  terror.  What 
fearsome  prose  you  can  write  when  you  set  about  it !  I 
wondered  for  a  moment  what  was  this  last  and  fatal  decree 
before  I  remembered  that  it  applied  to  the  suppressed 
agregation.  Indeed  do  not  believe  that  my  old  friendship 
for  you  is  necessary  to  obtain  my  pardon  for  your  silence  ! 
Even  had  not  your  letter  come  to  scatter  flowers  over  my 
grave,  you  would  still  be  my  own  dear  Ed.,  and  all  I  ask 
of  you  is  to  be  as  consoled  as  I  am.  Why  am  I  consoled  ? 
The  reason  is  simple,  my  friend.  My  disillusions  during  the 
last  eight  months  have  been  so  great,  and  go  on  increasing 
so  fast,  that  I  begin  to  understand  not  only  Spinoza's  theory 
but  his  practice.  I  consider  that  my  Universitarian  future 
is  lost ;  as  it  is  the  only  one  I  had  to  look  forward  to,  and 

194 


PROFESSORSHIP 

as  I  see  no  door  by  which  I  can  escape  from  the  lions'  den, 
I  am  becoming  used  to  looking  upon  my  profession  as  a  mere 
means  of  earning  my  living.  Instead  of  trying  to  satisfy 
my  ambition,  I  am  trying  to  rid  myself  of  ambition.  For 
several  months  past  I  have  only  felt  ambitious  once  a 
fortnight.  I  hope  this  will  go  on  improving  and  I  may  be 
quite  peaceful  in  the  end.  I  am  living  quite  happily  in 
Poitiers,  busy  writing  my  thesis  on  Sensations.  If  I  had 
no  fear  of  the  examination  I  should  be  perfectly  calm. 
To  think,  to  co-ordinate  one's  thoughts  and  to  write  them 
down  is  a  delicious  thing  ;  the  less  one  thinks  of  the  public 
the  better  one  is  pleased.  It  is  the  tete-a-tete  of  love  ;  and 
if  I  could  constrain  myself  to  forsake  the  world,  and  to 
live  alone  with  this  dear  and  charming  mistress,  I  think 
I  should  have  nothing  to  wish  for.  I  am  trying  to  calm 
all  my  wrath  and  all  my  desires.  I  have  read  no  news- 
papers for  six  months ;  I  never  speak  of  politics  or  religion. 
It  used  to  chagrin  me  six  months  ago,  now  it  pleases  me. 
I  even,  in  the  course  of  my  studies,  avoid  thinking  of  the 
differences  between  our  Science  and  that  of  the  reigning 
party  ;  I  try  to  abstract  myself  completely  from  present 
things,  to  live  altogether  in  the  world  of  general  ideas,  to 
be  no  longer  an  actor  but  a  spectator.  Our  Masters  have 
lived  thus  since  the  beginnings  of  Philosophy.  Why  should 
I  wish  for  a  better  fate  ? 

Not  that  I  am  already  avrdp-^^  %ai  airdBr)*.  The 
passionate  and  combative  animal  that  you  know  bounds 
in  irritation  now  and  then,  but  I  hope  to  send  it  to  sleep, 
even  if  I  have  to  wake  it  up,  if  the  day  of  the  great  judg- 
ment should  come. 

I  told  you  I  had  written  my  theses.  I  asked  M.  Simon 

195 


LIFE   AND   LETTERS   OF   H.   TAINE 

for  an  approbation  ;  receiving  no  answer,  I  asked  Prevost 
to  see  him.  No  news.  I  shall  wait  till  Thursday,  and 
then  write  directly  to  M.  Le  Clerc.1  I  shall  have  one 
hundred  and  fifty  pages  of  French  and  about  fifty  of 
Latin.  It  seems  that  three  weeks  are  wanted  to  print 
that.  I  should  much  like  to  be  a  Doctor  by  the  end  of 
the  year.  Will  they  accept  my  thesis  ?  I  say  that  the 
feeling  ego  is  extended  and  situate  in  the  nerves,  and  I 
prove  Aristotle's  eWeXe^em.  I  may  be  saved  by  that 
great  name  and  a  show  of  psychological  method. 

Do  you  not  fear  to  make  them  bristle  with  horror  by 
showing  some  common  sense  on  the  question  of  Liberty  ? 2 
Beware,  Fatalist !  they  will  say  to  you,  and  to  me  :  Beware, 
Materialist !  That  is  the  worst  of  it :  we  cannot  move 
without  treading  on  their  toes. 

Do  not  talk  to  me  of  my  class,  old  fellow.  It  is  the  acme 
of  idleness,  stupidity  and  platitude,  far  worse  than  Nevers. 
(I  have  had  posthumous  adventures  at  Nevers  since  I  left, 
but  it  is  all  so  stupid  that  I  have  not  the  courage  to  write 
about  it).  I  shower  impositions  upon  them.  All  those 
souls  are  still-born,  and  living  amongst  them  makes  one 
as  rotten  as  they  are. 

"  Fools  ever  since  Adam  have  been  in  the  majority." 

I  have  had  the  luck  to  find  an  old  schoolfellow  here,  an 
engineer  ;  he  is  witty  and  distinguished,  and  of  an  inquiring 
mind,  and  we  have  long  talks.  It  is  an  unexpected  boon — 
the  only  one,  alas. 

As  to  Poitiers,  you  will  have  an  idea  of  the  sort  of  society 
it  is,  when  I  tell  you  that  I  may  not  allow  my  pupils  to  read 

1  Dean  of  the  Faculty  of  Letters. 

2  M.  de  Suckau  had  begun  writing  a  thesis  on  Liberty. 

196 


PROFESSORSHIP 

the  Provinciates  (Pascal),  the  Ecole  des  Maris  (Moliere), 
and  Lamartine's  works  at  their  Library. 

I  should  think  the  oath  might  conscientiously  be  taken  ; 
it  means,  I  think,  that  we  will  obey  the  laws  and  that  we 
will  not  conspire  against  the  President.  I  do  not  take  it 
to  mean  any  more,  and  I  shall  keep  it  in  that  sense.  If  he 
will  only  let  me  live  and  think  by  myself  in  my  room,  I  shall 
give  him  for  his  money  classes  as  insignificant  as  he  can 
wish  for. 

To  Prevost-Paradol. 

April  25,  1852. 

MY  DEAR  FRIEND, — Here  am  I,  a  Poitevin  ;  it  is  not 
much  to  be  proud  of.  The  town  is  hideous,  paved  with 
nails'  heads,  or  rather  points,  religious  to  the  uttermost, 
peopled  with  nobles,  ultra-legitimists  who  hold  themselves 
aloof ;  the  college  is  large  and  handsome,  but  the  students 
are  far  more  stupid  than  at  Nevers,  more  lazy  especially  ; 
they  write  me  impossible  orations,  with  which  I  am 
perfectly  sickened.  Imagine  the  extreme  of  bad  taste, 
cold  declamation,  noble  style,  prosopopoeia  and  hypotyposis, 
and,  especially,  an  unapproachable  lack  of  ideas.  For 
warmth  and  passion  they  are  about  forty  degrees  below 
zero  (Reaumur),  and  so  extraordinarily  obtuse  that  they 
never  know  when  they  are  being  laughed  at.  Paris  and 
the  provinces  are  two  worlds  ;  it  must  be  seen  to  be  ima- 
gined. Warned  by  the  Rector  and  by  the  amiable  letter 
you  read,1  I  consulted  the  authorities  before  consenting  to 
give  a  boy  permission  to  read  the  Provinciates.  It  was 
refused  !  You  see  what  they  have  come  to. 

*  M.  Fortoul's  letter,  p.  190. 
197 


LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF  H.  TAINE 

No  agregation  for  me  this  year.  Ergo,  I  am  writing  my 
theses.  I  have  written  out  the  plan  of  the  French  one  (on 
Sensation),  and  I  have  consulted  M.  Simon,  asking  for  his 
approbation  ;  it  cometh  not,  and  I  want  to  begin  !  Can 
you  see  him  as  you  promised  ?  I  have  given  him  the 
principal  idea,  it  is  psychology  and  pure  observation,  and 
I  found  myself  on  Aristotle's  authority.  Perhaps  M.  Simon 
is  no  longer  an  examiner,  since  Cousin  has  resumed  his 
lectures.  Then  I  should  have  to  write  directly  to  M.  Joseph 
Victor  Le  Clerc,  Dean,  etc. 

I  wish  for  a  speedy  answer,  as  I  want  to  go  up  at  the 
beginning  of  August,  if  possible.  A  Doctor's  degree  counts 
for  two  years'  services,  and  I  should  then  be  agregabUis — 
as  I  wish  to  see  myself,  old  fellow.  In  the  course  of  your 
meditations  re  Chinese  and  Mandchus,  you  might  wander 
past  No.  10,  Place  de  la  Madeleine,1  and  write  to  me  about 
the  Celestial  Empire  and  the  blessed  Faculte's  wishes  at 
the  same  time.  What  a  bog  we  are  in,  to  be  sure  ! !  I  hear 
that  only  college  matters  will  be  demanded  at  the  agregation 
examinations  ;  it  will  be  the  death  of  Higher  Studies.  The 
Faculty  Professors  (I  have  just  met  some),  obliged  to 
give  their  lectures  before  law-students,  will  give  them  broad 
epitomes  of  History  and  Literature,  original  researches 
will  come  to  an  end  ;  it  is  a  universal  let  down. 

I  hear  that  you  will  see  a  fine  ceremony  on  May  10. 
Some  one  here,  who  heard  the  Republican  Guards  shouting 
"  Vive,"  etc.,  tells  me  they  have  the  finest  bass  voices  in 
the  world  ;  with  the  help  of  liquor,  it  will  be  a  sublime 
concert :  shall  we  see  1804  over  again  ?  Lucky  are  the 

1  M.  J.  Simon's  house. 
198 


PROFESSORSHIP 

wardrobe  people  who  have  preserved  old  costumes  !  France 
is  suffering  from  bric-a-brac  mania,  and  the  present  Mar- 
seillaise is  "  Old  Clo'  !  " 

Well,  quid  novi  ?  I  have  not  read  any  newspapers  since 
December  2.  The  Officiel  bores  me,  and,  not  being  in  Paris, 
I  take  no  interest  in  concerts,  theatres,  etc.  You,  who  are 
a  society  man,  a  politician,  might  send  me  some  sort  of 
news.  Here,  one  is  obliged  to  keep  quiet,  and,  however 
desirous  one  may  be  of  not  saying  anything,  one  always 
says  too  much. 

I  shall  send  you  my  French  prose  when  it  is  ready.  It 
will  be  pure  science,  very  little  style  about  it.  You  can 
send  me  a  mass  of  notes  and  corrections.  Really,  I  think 
I  have  discovered  several  things,  and  a  homogeneous  theory, 
especially  some  palpable  facts  on  the  nature  of  the  Soul. 
Will  it  be  too  bold  ?  You  will  tell  me  what  you  think. 

I  have  found  Saigey  here,  whom  you  used  to  know  at 
Bourbon.  He  is  sorry  that  he  took  up  a  mathematical 
machine's  profession,  and  would  like  to  taste  Moral  Science. 
He  is  polished  and  witty,  and  I  am  glad  to  have  him. 

Answer  me  soon  voci  in  deserto  damanti. 

To  M.  Leon  Crousle. 

April  25,  1852. 

MY  DEAR  CROUSLE, — Prevost  has  no  doubt  seen  you 
and  told  you  of  my  adventures.  Here  I  am,  at  Poitiers, 
a  Rhetoric  assistant-master,  with  a  threatening  letter  and 
Imminent  discharge  if  I  do  not  remain  perfectly  insipid. 
But  let  us  put  all  these  paltry  things  aside  ;  I  am  so  tired 
of  it  all  that  I  do  not  even  care  to  speak  about  it. 

We  have  both  dropped  into  the  same  hole.     No  agrega- 

199 


LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF  H.  TAINE 

tion  for  me,  at  least,  this  year,  and  for  us  both,  in  eighteen 
months'  time,  a  ridiculous  examination  when  every  medio- 
crity will  be  admitted.  What  are  you  others  doing  at  the 
Ecole  ?  Will  you  stay  there  ?  Are  you  going  in  for 
another  career  ?  What  a  disillusion,  old  fellow  !  It  is  only 
in  the  provinces  that  we  can  see  such  susceptibilities  in 
parents  and  such  stupidity  in  pupils.  I  correct  French 
disquisitions,  which  make  me  sick  ;  acting  on  the  Censor's 
advice,  I  refuse  to  pupils  who  ask  for  it  permission  to  read 
the  Provinciales.  I  hear  my  colleagues  say  that  Philosophy 
has  been  the  perdition  of  the  University.  Nothing  is  ex- 
pected of  a  professor  save  a  complete  absence  of  ideas  or 
passion,  a  mechanical  soul,  the  old-fashioned  pedantry  of 
the  old  buffers  who  used  to  teach  us  "Barbaro"  and  "  Amo 
Deum."  All  that  you  acquire  at  the  Ecole,  knowledge, 
a  distinguished  mind,  a  free  judgment  on  any  subject,  is 
harmful  to  you.  At  last  I  understand  M.  de  Talleyrand's 
saying  "  Have  no  zeal."  The  true  Professor  is  a  speaking 
fossil  who  knows  not  a  word  about  his  own  times,  a  sort  of 
La  Harpe  or  Lefeau.  Your  title  of  Normalien  will  be 
fatal  to  you  ;  to  come  out  of  that  infamous  den  means 
that  you  carry  infection  with  you.  You  cannot  imagine 
what  efforts  of  self-control  and  perseverance  are  necessary 
to  arrest  on  your  lips  the  new  idea  or  bright  expression 
just  bursting  forth.  And  especially,  when  you  have  spent 
three  years  amongst  learned  men  and  great  writers,  you 
cannot  imagine  how  depressing  it  is  to  correct  the  vapid 
and  emphatic  essays  of  provincial  students,  to  feel  abso- 
lutely misunderstood,  to  be  obliged  to  repeat  what  you 
do  not  consider  worth  listening  to,  to  debase  one's  ideas 
and  teaching,  to  live  amongst  men  devoid  of  ideas  and 

200 


PROFESSORSHIP 

passion,  whom  ideas  and  passion  offend  !  !  !  Our  history 
is  that  of  Julien  at  the  seminary.1 

I  attempt  to  console  myself  by  writing  my  theses  (the 
French  one  on  Sensation  and  the  Latin  one  on  Exterior 
Perception).  I  have  given  up  the  Germans  ;  nowadays 
I  dare  not  read  them  openly.  It  would  be  risking  an 
explosion  to  dig  up  and  bring  to  light  the  Trans-Rhenish 
mines.  I  have  written  to  M.  Simon,  supposing  that  M.  Le 
Clerc  still  lets  him  examine  the  theses,  and  that  his  appro- 
bation is  necessary  to  start  with.  I  passed  so  rapidly 
through  Paris  that  I  could  not  see  him,  or  M.  Vacherot, 
or  you,  or  anybody,  except  Prevost,  just  for  a  moment. 

Are  you  cured  ?  I  hope  you  are.  But  is  your  soul  still 
suffering  ?  How  well  I  can  understand  such  disgust,  such 
a  desire  for  pleasures  and  emotions  which  we  can  never 
have,  which  are  but  for  the  noble  and  the  rich  !  .  .  .  Seen 
at  a  distance,  they  may  seem  happy  ;  but  seen  close,  their 
life  is  so  empty  and  so  ridiculous  that  I  cease  to  envy  it. 

On  the  whole,  to  work  is  still  the  better  part.  Work 
becomes  interesting,  ennui  disappears,  time  is  annihilated, 
and  the  great  restful  end  comes  insensibly  nearer.  All 
hopes  are  lost  as  life  progresses  ;  what  blissful  dreams  are 
those  of  boyhood  !  Glory,  Love,  Fortune  !  !  Now  I  ask 
but  to  be  left  alone ;  I  am  shackled  by  my  profession,  and 
our  chains  are  tightened  now  and  then  by  the  great  hand 
of  our  god  the  Minister  in  order  that  we  may  feel  them. 
If  it  were  not  for  that  I  should  hardly  have  any  worries. 
It  seems  to  me  that  Spinoza  and  Descartes  were  happy 
in  their  Dutch  villages,  and  if  I  had  enough  money  I  should 
go  and  live  on  a  fifth  floor  in  Paris.  Science  is  worthy  to 

1  Stendhal,  Rouge  et  Noir. 
201 


LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF  H.  TAINE 

be  loved  for  its  own  sake,  and  not  to  be  made  into  a  means 
of  success.  I  no  longer  count  on  any  happiness  to  come  ; 
I  am  beginning  to  gather  my  desires  into  one — only  one, 
which  is  to  clear  up  my  ideas  and  to  solve  my  problems. 
I  am  trying  to  do  so,  at  least,  in  spite  of  my  bouts  of  anger, 
of  wounded  self-love  and  deluded  ambition  ;  yet  I  hope 
that  my  sky  will  end  by  becoming  serene  after  all  these 
storms.  I  try  to  calm  myself  by  every  means  in  my  power  ; 
I  see  very  few  people,  I  read  no  politics  ;  if  it  were  possible 
I  should  like  to  forget  the  things  of  to-day,  and  live  with 
my  friends,  Ideas  and  Art. 

This  is  rather  hermit-like,  and,  like  you,  I  have  fits  of 
rage.  But  what  is  to  be  done  ?  Our  youth  revolts  against 
our  condition.  We  must  choose,  abjure  the  one  or  the 
other,  make  of  our  profession  a  means  of  bread-winning, 
and  philosophize  in  silence,  or  throw  our  gown  into  the  fire 
and  launch  out  into  the  uncertain  future.  Which  is  best  ? 
Prevost  is  perhaps  in  the  right.1  But  each  must  go  where 
his  temperament  leads  him.  Where  is  yours  directing 
you  ?  Dear  old  friend,  let  us  converse  as  we  used  to  do 
in  the  old  fraternal,  Ecole  Normale  style.  You  said,  in 
one  of  our  walks  round  the  Quadrangle  that  I  had  been  the 
first  to  talk  seriously  and  intimately  to  you.  Let  us  do  as 
we  did  then.  Plato  was  indeed  right  when  he  said  that 
there  were  but  two  good  things  in  the  world,  Philosophy 
and  Friendship. 

What  are  Marot  and  Ponsot  doing,  and  all  the  third-year 
men  ? 

1  Provost- Paradol  had  left  the  Ecole  Normale  before  the  end  of 
his  third  year,  on  a  long  leave  of  absence. 

202 


PROFESSORSHIP 

To  Mademoiselle  Virginie  Taine. 

April  28,  1852. 

Positively,  my  dear  girl,  Mother  is  wrong  in  believing 
that  I  am  exaggerating  the  beauty  of  my  position  (not  of 
my  person  !  !).  My  room  is  quiet  and  pretty,  with  a  beau- 
tiful glimpse  of  the  sky  above  the  garden.  At  the  present 
moment  I  am  writing  from  the  depths  of  my  arm-chair, 
between  my  bookshelves  and  my  piano,  like  a  real  sultan. 
True,  I  may  not  become  an  agrege,  yet,  who  knows,  the 
chance  is  a  small  one,  but  perhaps  ...  I  am  writing  my 
two  theses ;  a  Doctor's  degree  is  worth  two  years'  services. 
If  I  obtained  it  in  August,  it  would  make  five  years,  at 
twenty-four  and  a  half  years  of  age  ;  I  might  perhaps  obtain 
leave  to  dispense  with  the  full  age,  though  that  is  very 
doubtful.  I  have  seen  the  Rector  here  and  explained  to 
him  the  nasty  little  Nevers  stories  ;  the  letter  he  has  had 
from  M.  Lesieur  is  a  replica  of  mine.  They  are  putting  me 
on  trial — I  shall  try  to  stand  the  test.  To  begin  with,  and 
acting  on  the  advice  of  the  authorities,  I  have  refused  to 
allow  pupils  to  read  at  their  Library  the  Provinciates, 
Tartufe,  VEcole  des  Femmes,  and  Jocdyn.  You  may  die 
with  laughter,  but  so  it  is.  This  town  is  ultra- virtuous, 
and  the  pious  parents,  who  read  Paul  de  Kock,  would  haul 
us  over  the  coals  if  we  were  thus  to  corrupt  their  children. 
Our  honest  city  is  yet  a  little  more  stupid  than  Nevers  ; 
it  swarms  with  convents  and  nobility,  and  it  is  of  all  the 
lands  under  the  sun  that  where  there  is  least  thought.  I 
am  horrified  when  I  read  the  papers  of  my  pupils.  Yes- 
terday, in  a  French  oration  three  pages  long,  I  found 
six  prosopopoeia,  one  to  Italy,  one  to  Constantinople,  one 

203 


LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF  H.  TAINE 

to  the  time  of  Pericles,  one  to  the  Genie  of  Fine  Arts,  etc. 
I  ask  :  "  Why  this  lyrical  frenzy  ?  "  and  I  am  answered  : 
"  We  did  not  know  what  to  write,  Sir."  Here  are  some 
French  verses  on  the  insects  of  the  Hypanis  (one  insect  is 
speaking,  perched  on  a  flower). 

Je  veux  vous  faire  part  de  mon  experience, 
Apporter  mot  nussi  le  fruit  d'un  peu  de  science 
Qui  vous  est  due  de  droit.     Panni  tous  les  malheurs 
Qui  diminuent  de  Dieu  les  immenses  favours, 
Comptons  surtout,  messieurs,  cet  esprit  d' in  justice 
Envere  le  Createur.     Fortes  ainsi  au  vice, 
Nous  oublions  deja  le  sort  qui  nous  attend 
Et  .  .   .   . 

What  do  you  think  of  this  for  masculine  wit  ?  I  do  not 
believe  a  girl  would  dare  write  such  bosh.  I  am  indeed 
in  the  lions'  den,  and  I  bristle  with  horror  every  moment, 
as  I  listen  to  those  Poitevin  amenities.  At  Nevers,  at 
least,  my  pupils  did  not  write  absurdities  ;  here  I  might  be 
in  the  stables  of  Augeas. 

I  am  glad  I  spent  a  day  at  Rethel ;  their  ways  are  old- 
fashioned,  but  I  like  them  because  they  are  finished  and 
natural ;  also  they  are  very  kind  people,  and  there  is  some- 
thing within  me  decidedly  Rethelois :  the  family  sentiment. 

I  suppose  you  will  soon  be  going  to  Beaurepaire  ;  l  the 
leaves  are  opening,  and  the  country  is  becoming  beautifully 
green.  The  landscape  is  more  lovely  than  at  any  other  time 
of  the  year.  Towards  Longwe,  by  the  mill,  there  is  a  little 
path  which  leads  up  into  the  woods  and  often  meets  the 
brook,  with  large  open  spaces  full  of  thick  new  grass.  The 

1  The  country  house  of  the  Taine  family  in  the  Ardennes. 

204 


PROFESSORSHIP 

stream  is  dark  with  willows,  the  water  is  clear  and  rapid, 
nothing  could  be  more  solitary,  more  lovely. 

I  have  found  here  a  Faculty  professor,  a  schoolfellow 
of  our  father's,  whose  son  is  head  boy  in  my  class,  M.  Anot, 
of  Mezieres.  His  brother,  an  inspector  at  Versailles,  has 
just  been  discharged  on  account  of  an  article  in  which  he 
blamed  the  Education  Bill.  The  Government  is  rough- 
handed  and  throws  over  whomever  ventures  on  a  word.  I 
am  not  tempted  to  say  anything.  The  table  where  I  have 
my  meals  is  frequented  by  well-bred  people  who  do  not 
talk  politics.  It  is  probable  that  as  I  get  further  away 
from  the  Ecole  Normale,  I  shall  adapt  myself  better  to 
Society  manners  and  acquire  the  necessary  silent  insipidity. 
My  education  and  life  in  Paris  had  raised  me  above  the 
ordinary  level.  I  find  that  life  in  the  provinces  has  not 
reached  further  than  the  eighteenth  century  ;  I  will  climb 
down  and  try  not  to  be  out  of  focus.  So  be  it. 

My  thesis  is  my  great  amusement.  It  is  a  fatigue  and 
a  pleasure  to  arrange  one's  ideas  and  to  write  them  down. 
It  drives  away  boredom,  and  time  passes.  Heigho  ;  if 
this  situation  can  last  I  shall  be  content.  Ambition  is 
hardly  satisfied,  but  time  is  occupied  and  the  mind  is  not 
idle.  What  more  could  be  wished  ? 

Sophie  ought  to  write  on  this  subject:  "  The  Insects  of 
the  Hypanis."  (They  only  live  for  one  day  ;  relate  the 
sayings  of  the  oldest  of  them,  at  least  ten  hours  of  age.  It 
is  a  parody  of  human  sentiments.) 

Those  ten  days  at  Vouziers  did  me  good. 


i>05 


LIFE   AND   LETTERS   OF   H.   TAINE 

To  Mademoiselle  Sophie  Taine. 

May  11,  1852. 

Poitiers  is  topsy-turvy  just  now.  Splendid  family 
coaches,  at  least  fifty  years  old  and  heavily  laden,  roll  in 
clouds  of  dust ;  noble  young  men  in  black  trousers,  coats 
and  hats,  ride  on  horseback  in  the  full  sunshine  ;  the 
officers  of  the  garrison  have  put  on  their  most  brilliant 
uniforms  and  most  shining  top-boots.  Everybody  runs, 
hurrying,  perspiring  and  swallowing  the  dust,  along  a  road 
which  I  can  see  from  this  garden,  in  order  to  go  and  look 
at  a  dozen  lanky  horses  who  will  describe  a  circle  round  a 
dry,  flat  plain,  and  one  of  which  will  arrive  before  the 
others.  Placards  had  been  stuck  as  far  as  the  department 
of  the  Nievre  ;  a  lady  asked  me  yesterday  whether  a  great 
number  of  Parisians  would  come  down.  It  has  been  the 
subject  of  conversation  for  the  last  fortnight. 

The  people  in  the  house  I  live  in  are  very  respectable, 
and  there  are  some  pretty  children.  I  was  playing  with 
one  of  them  yesterday,  and  the  mother  took  advantage  of 
it  to  treat  me  to  an  hour's  dissertation  on  maternal  love. 
"  My  darling  children  !  can  I  ever  bear  to  part  from  them  ? 
Ah,  I  cannot  be  away  from  them  for  a  moment !  Without 
an  effort  I  have  given  up  Society  for  their  sake  !  "  I  stood, 
hat  in  hand,  listening  to  these  pathetic  sentiments  delivered 
in  appropriate  tones,  and  promised  myself  that  never  again 
would  I  turn  on  this  hot- water  tap.  People  here  cannot 
understand  that  one  does  not  wish  to  talk  to  them  or  to 
hear  them  speak  ;  they  are  so  charmed  with  their  own 
words  that  they  think  every  one  is  likewise  delighted. 

One  of  the  most  perfect  chatterboxes  is  M.  N.,  a  good, 

206 


PROFESSORSHIP 

well-meaning  creature  on  the  whole.  He  has  called  on 
me,  and  I  have  heard  one  of  his  lectures  at  the  Faculty. 
Horrors  !  that  is  what  Rhetoric  and  the  provinces  can 
make  of  a  man  !  And  in  twenty  years'  time  I  shall  be  like 
that !  better  be  hanged  first !  Imagine  an  abundance  of 
sweetest  liquorice-water  flowing  with  a  nauseous  gurgle 
until  one  feels  surfeited  and  sickened.  No  order,  no  method, 
no  emphasis,  just  a  leaking  pipe  out  of  which  water  runs 
out  anyhow.  In  the  place  of  ideas,  such  paradoxes  as 
these :  "  La  Fontaine  was  very  witty."  "  Tasso,  in  Armida, 
invented  the  artificial  woman,"  etc. 

The  others  have  the  same  sort  of  talent ;  they  attract 
about  a  dozen  bored  or  imbecile  hearers.  There  is  a  stream 
of  vapidity  which  goes  from  the  lecturer  to  the  audience, 
and  back  from  the  audience  to  the  lecturer.  Imagine  the 
effect  when  it  is  added  to  education  and  to  their  nature  ! 
This  great  lesson  is  to  be  gathered  from  it  all :  that  it  is 
unnecessary  to  think  in  order  to  make  one's  way  ;  that 
lack  of  ideas  is  esteemed  and  sought  after,  and  that  per- 
fection consists  in  being  an  automaton,  because  an  auto- 
maton is  more  docile  than  an  intelligent  being. 

No  news.  I  am  writing  my  thesis  ;  the  people  in  Paris, 
whose  official  approbation  I  have  asked  for,  do  not  answer, 
which  vexes  me.  You  have  had  a  sample  of  the  wit  of  my 
pupils.  My  duty  calls  are  paid,  and  I  see  no  one.  The 
less  I  come  into  contact  with  those  who  surround  me  the 
less  I  shall  deteriorate. 

My  friends  at  the  Ecole  write  me  lamentations  on  the 
profession,  and  I  join  in  the  chorus  ;  one  more  of  them  has 
just  resigned.  The  others  mean  to  leave  at  the  end  of  the 
year. 

207 


LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF  H.  TAINE 

But  I  have  a  piano  and  a  sofa  to  console  me. 

You  ought  to  read  a  little  Natural  History,  and  fish  out 
from  our  books  that  Flora  of  the  neighbourhood  of  Paris 
(Merat's) ;  it  might  do  for  Vouziers.  Nothing  is  more 
amusing  than  to  converse  with  the  plants  one  meets  with 
in  country  walks. 

Become  a  great  pianist,  my  dear ;  we  have  but  one 
resource,  which  is  to  work  hard  or  else  to  be  bored,  and 
you  are  too  wise  to  resign  yourself  to  boredom. 

AN  ANSWER  TO  THE  LETTER  WRITTEN  BY  M.  TAINE, 
PROFESSOR  AT  THE  POITIERS  LYCEE,  May  6,  1852.1 
Victor  Le  Clerc,  Dean. 

M.  Adolphe  Gamier  to  M.  Victor  Le  Clerc. 

May  17,  1852. 

MONSIEUR  LE  DOYEN, — You  do  me  the  honour  of 
asking  for  my  opinion  on  the  subjects  proposed  by  M. 
Taine  for  his  theses.  You  know  my  liking  for  dogmatical 
theses.  You  know  that  historical  theses,  instead  of  throw- 
ing light  on  doubtful  points  of  philosophical  or  literary 
history,  are  usually  confined  to  the  analysis  of  some  author, 
which  does  not  bring  much  progress  to  science.  I  am 
therefore  very  favourably  disposed  towards  M.  Taine's 
subjects.  When  I  tell  you  that  the  conclusions  M.  Taine 
announces  are  diametrically  opposed  to  my  own,  I  am 
not  suggesting  that  you  should  refuse  the  subjects  of  which 
he  wishes  to  treat.  But  please  advise  him  to  think  over 
them  again  ;  he  has  just  left  the  Boole,  where  I  know  that 
Reid  is  not  taught ;  let  him  take  the  trouble  to  study  it 

1  M.  Taine's  letter  has  not  been  preserved. 
208 


PROFESSORSHIP 

thoroughly ;  let  him  alter  his  theories,  or  at  least  the 
expression  in  his  letter.  What  are  images  of  sensations 
in  the  brain,  of  illusory  sensations  representing  exterior 
objects  to  us  ?  Is  the  outer  world  but  an  illusion  ?  Again, 
how  has  Nature  the  intention  to  make  the  exterior  known 
to  us,  and  an  ingenious  means  of  effecting  this  ?  How 
does  he  come  to  re-establish  Aristotle's  theory  on  the  ^rv^ij 
which  perishes  with  the  body,  without  considering  that 
if  he  attributes  inclinations  to  the  body,  and  even,  as  does 
Aristotle,  particular  knowledge,  it  will  not  be  difficult  to 
ascribe  general  knowledge  to  the  body  ?  How  can  he  say 
that  such  doctrines  are  not  dangerous  ? 

I  saw  M.  Taine  at  the  last  agregation  competition.  He 
has  a  very  great  talent  for  speaking  ;  his  oratorical  manner 
is  irreproachable — it  is  impossible  to  express  oneself  with 
more  grace,  and  more  completely  to  fascinate  one's  audi- 
ence ;  but  those  are  oratorical  and  not  philosophical 
qualities.  He  was  only  fifth  in  the  written  examinations, 
and,  after  having  risen  to  the  first  rank  in  argumentation, 
he  dropped  back  to  the  very  last  by  his  lecture  on  the 
Being  identical  with  the  Good.  I  am  persuaded  that  he 
has  too  much  imagination  to  be  a  philosopher,  and  that 
he  would  find  in  literature  and  poetry  a  more  legitimate 
and  more  felicitous  use  of  his  brilliant  qualities. 

Accept,  M.  le  Doyen,  my  profound  respect, 

ADOLPHE  GARNIEB. 

H.  Taine  to  his  Mother. 

May  26,  1852. 

Since  I  arrived  here  I  have  been  working  night  and 
morning,  Sundays  and  week-days,  on  my  two  theses. 

209  p 


LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF  H.  TAINE 

I  finished  them  to-night,  and  in  a  fortnight's  time  I  shall 
have  put  them  straight  and  sent  them  to  Paris.  I  am 
playing  for  high  stakes,  perhaps  :  I  am  bringing  to  light 
ideas  absolutely  new,  and  therefore  contrary  to  those  of 
the  examiners  ;  but  if  I  succeed  I  shall  rise  out  of  the 
crowd,  and  that  is  what  I  want  to  do. 

I  have  been  very  happy  all  this  time.  It  is  an  infinite 
pleasure  and  a  fascinating  occupation  to  handle  ideas. 
All  one's  faculties  are  strained,  everything  else  is  forgotten, 
days  fly  like  an  arrow,  and  in  the  end  one  is  pleased 
with  onesrlf  for  having  accomplished  a  real  effort  and  a 
manly  action.  It  is  even  a  sort  of  intoxication  ;  the  more 
one  drinks,  the  more  one  wants  to  drink,  and,  habit  helping 
passion,  it  becomes  impossible  to  leave  one's  room.  At 
this  moment  I  understand  those  who  have  lived  on  their 
chair,  looking  into  their  own  brains,  not  even  deigning 
to  put  their  head  out  of  the  window  to  see  what  was  going 
on.  It  seems  as  if  no  personal  practical  business  was 
worth  troubling  about ;  I  have  not  felt  at  all  curious  to 
read  the  newspapers.  I  do  not  care  a  straw  for  politics  : 
I  have  my  own  world,  and  I  wish  to  stay  there,  leaving 
those  who  wish  to  do  so  to  quarrel  over  uniforms,  the 
Government,  money,  posts,  etc.  Is  not  that  a  happy  dis- 
position ?  It  seems  to  me  that  whatever  happens,  I  have 
in  the  future  a  refuge  within  myself  against  all  vicissitudes. 

I  do  not  think  any  one  could  say  a  word  against  my 
lectures.  I  read  Bossuet  and  the  Misanthrope  to  my  pupils, 
and  I  am  going  to  correct  an  address  which  two  of  them 
are  going  to  present  to  the  Bishop  on  the  day  of  Confirma- 
tion in  the  College.  I  imagine  that  I  shall  end  by  becoming 
a  Saint,  and  that  I  shall  one  day  send  you  my  relics. 

210 


PROFESSORSHIP 

The  place  where  I  have  my  meals  is  frequented  by  better 
people  than  the  one  at  Nevers.  Some  of  the  young  men 
there  are  musical,  and  we  play  together.  My  landlord  has 
a  charming  little  girl  of  eighteen  months,  who  is  just  be- 
ginning to  walk,  who  looks  one  in  the  face  with  her  big 
eyes  and  who  kisses  everybody  ;  his  garden  is  full  of  roses. 
I  have  also  seen  two  rather  green  and  smiling  spots  in  the 
neighbourhood. 

Otherwise  I  have  no  news.  I  could  only  relate  my  thesis 
to  you,  and,  fortunately,  that  grind  is  reserved  for  my 
examiners. 

The  extra  lectures  which  had  been  promised  me  have 
ended  in  smoke,  and  I  shall  merely  have  my  2,000  fr.  No 
letters  from  any  one. 

Perhaps  the  Faculty  will  keep  my  thesis  a  long  time  to 
examine  it  before  authorizing  me  to  have  it  printed.  I 
am  told  that  printing  will  take  three  weeks.  It  is  only 
ten  days  later  that  the  vivd  voce  examination  will  begin. 
My  colleagues  tell  me  I  shall  be  lucky  if  I  pass  this  year  ; 
and,  if  I  pass,  I  shall  probably  have  to  stay  in  Paris  until 
the  end  of  August.  The  Faculty  examinations  cease  on 
the  first  of  September. 

M.  Barthelemy  St.  Hilaire,  to  whom  Uncle  Adolphe 
had  introduced  me,  refused  the  oath,  and  in  consequence 
is  now  nobody;  M.  Simon  likewise — he  writes  for  his  living. 
All  my  friends  are  destroyed.  I  must  crouch  in  a  hole 
and  live  like  a  philosophical  rat.  At  present  I  like  my 
hole  :  music  cheers  me  up,  the  sky  is  lovely,  and  I  only 
ask  for  one  thing,  letters. 


211 


LIFE   AND   LETTERS   OF   H.    TAINE 

To  M.  Leon  Crousle. 

June  2,  1852. 

Many  thanks  for  your  nice  kind  letters,  and  apologies 
for  my  obstinate  silence.  I  have  been  sapping  for  six 
weeks  in  the  hard  soil  of  the  Doctorate,  from  five  in  the 
morning  till  eleven  at  night.  I  have  written  out  the  rough 
copy  of  the  Latin,  and  copied  out  the  French  thesis.  My 
soul  is  literally  drowned  in  sensations,  nerves,  conscience, 
brain,  and  exterior  perceptions,  and  I  am  still  almost  in- 
capable of  answering  your  letter. 

I  look  upon  my  thesis  with  pleasure  and  terror,  because 
it  is  new.  M.  Gamier  approves  of  the  subject,  but  blames 
my  conclusions,  and  ends  by  saying  that  I  am  an  orator 
and  a  man  of  letters,  but  not  a  philosopher.  What  will  he 
think  when  he  reads  it  ?  Will  the  holy  Sorbonne  admit 
a  heretic  ?  That  is  the  question  which  now  runs  in  my 
head.  My  subject  is  a  fine  one  ;  I  treat  of  the  boundary 
between  moral  and  physical  Science,  between  the  natural 
and  the  intellectual  world.  My  thesis  gives  the  relation 
between  the  ego  and  the  nerves,  the  soul  and  the  body, 
Force  and  Matter,  Unity  and  Multiplicity,  and  does  so 
experimentally,  which  is  the  great  problem  of  natural 
science  ;  it  gives  a  theory  of  the  ego,  insomuch  as  it  is  the 
object  of  consciousness,  starting  from  the  thoughts,  and 
consequently  from  all  human  phenomena,  since  volition 
depends  on  passion,  and  passion  on  thought.  It  there- 
fore dips  into  both  worlds,  and  gives  a  summing  up 
of  one  and  the  principle  of  the  other.  But,  horrors  ! 
it  is  new !  I  shall  write  to  M.  Gamier,  when 
sending  him  my  prose,  on  the  advantages  of  new 

212 


PROFESSORSHIP 

theories,  on  contradictions,  etc.,  and  prove  to  him  syllo- 
gistically  that  I  am  neither  a  Sceptic  nor  a  Materialist. 
Pray  God,  or  rather  the  great  men  in  the  little  dark  room 
through  whom  He  is  manifested,  that  they  may  be  benign 
and  kindly  disposed. 

I  am  tempting  Fortune,  like  our  friend  Prevost.  It 
would  be  too  much,  whatever  Horace  may  say,  to  have  at 
the  same  time 

Exiguum  censum  turpemque  repulsam. 

And  now,  my  dear  fellow,  one  word  about  your  sermon. 
I  assure  you  that  my  mind  is  perfectly  calm,  and  that  I  feel 
neither  contempt  nor  rancour  towards  the  good  people 
who  have  beaten  me.  As  you  say,  I  am  all  in  God,  and  I 
engulph  myself  in  the  hope  of  eternal  life.  During  the  last 
two  months  I  have  not  given  a  moment's  thoughts  to  my 
future,  to  my  ruined  hopes,  or  to  political  things  ;  I  system- 
atically abstain  from  reading  newspapers  and  I  avoid  irri- 
tating conversations.  I  confine  myself  to  the  Abstract 
and  the  Purely  General.  I  try  to  live  outside  time  and 
space,  and  I  see  that  one  can  do  so  quite  comfortably. 
Unremitting  labour  and  building  up  of  ideas  vouchsafe  deep 
contentment  and  absolute  peace.  When  my  head  is  too 
tired  I  have  my  piano  and  the  country,  and  I  find  there 
an  infinite  quietude,  unimaginable  in  your  feverish  Paris 
and  our  argumentative  Ecole.  I  completely  understand 
the  life  of  Descartes  and  of  Spinoza,  and  I  do  not  see  why 
we  should  not  live  like  them.  Descartes,  it  is  true,  had 
that  supreme  blessing  of  possessing  enough  to  live  on,  but 
the  other  was  obliged  to  polish  optical  glasses.  Well,  we 
are  obliged  to  teach  Rhetoric  or  Grammar.  Is  it  worse  ? 

213 


LIFE    AND   LETTERS   OF   H.    TAINE 

Not  at  all ;  on  the  average,  my  services  to  the  State  take 
me  about  two  hours  a  day.  It  is  a  fine  thing  to  be  a  free 
man  at  the  cost  of  such  a  short  slavery.  We  are  going  to  the 
Promised  Land,  and  the  tribute  we  have  to  pay  at  the  door 
is  not  exorbitant.  The  University  is  excellent  for  that ; 
if  we  merely  suppress  our  ambition,  desire  for  pleasure, 
and  love  of  the  world,  and  if  we  know  how  to  live  alone 
with  our  thoughts,  we  may  be  quite  happy.  Now,  I  am 
hoping  to  be  able  to  work  in  myself  those  reforms  I  am 
speaking  of.  When  we  leave  the  Ecole,  we  are  expansive, 
politically-minded,  and  militant ;  we  need  Art  and  Society  ; 
in  a  few  years  time,  I  daresay,  we  can  end  by  being  satisfied 
with  our  own  conversation  and  that  of  the  trees  and  clouds. 
The  University  has  that  advantage  that  it  forbids  us 
any  other  life  than  the  scientific  life.  We  are  forced  to 
become  either  philosophers  or  brute  beasts.  My  choice 
is  made. 

Likewise  for  the  pupils.  One  ends  by  treating  them  as 
they  deserve  to  be  treated.  I  punish  mine  with  great 
success,  and  I  read  their  platitudes  with  stoical  calmness. 
When  one  has  made  up  one's  mind  to  it,  the  sight  of  hypo- 
crites and  fools  is  no  longer  irritating. 

This  is  the  hardest  reform,  my  dear  fellow  ;  at  the  Ecole 
we  take  too  much  of  a  spirit  of  equality.  We  assume  that 
absurd  hypothesis  that  all  men  are  men.  Not  at  all : 
sometimes  we  may  happen  to  meet  one  by  chance  ;  the 
others  are  machines,  as  you  rightly  say,  who  make  our 
bread  and  clothes,  and  whom,  I  may  add,  are  greeted  with 
respect.  We  must  become  accustomed  to  live  in  the  great 
machine  and  all  its  stupid  wheels.  If  we  wear  a  cuirass  of 
pride,  we  no  longer  feel  the  shocks  ;  we  forget  individuals, 

214 


PROFESSORSHIP 

and  we  only  think  of  the  general  things  which  alone  are 
worth  dwelling  on. 

Write  and  tell  me  why  you  have  remained  in  the  shop. 
My  only  reason  is  that  it  pays  1,800  fr.  for  two  hours' 
work  a  day. 

Who  has  taken  M.  Simon's  place  with  the  first  year 
students  ?  Who  has  resigned  ?  Is  it  Benaze  ?  Love  to 
all  the  others.  To  thee  a  fraternal  greeting. 


To  Prevost-Paradol. 

June  2,  1852. 

DEAR  OLD  FELLOW, — I  congratulate  you  on  being  a 
great  man.1  First,  it  looks  well,  and  secondly  it  is  profit- 
able ;  and  you  would  have  found  your  eloquence  Brevet 
worth  something  if  your  contract  with  Hachette  had 
taken  place  one  month  later.  But  no  matter,  you  are 
launched  now ;  everything  is  in  your  favour,  reviews, 
newspapers,  acquaintances,  everything.  Persevere  on  your 
course,  and  let  me,  from  my  black  hole,  hear  the  plaudits 
due  to  you. 

I  too  am  fidgeting  in  my  narrow  domain  :  not  that  I 
aspire  to  the  suffrages  of  the  Literary  Academy. 

Non  tanta  decet  fiducia  victum. 

(By  the  bye,  though,  you  might  send  me  the  question 
propounded  by  the  Academie  des  Sciences  Morales  on 
Sleep.) 

But  I  am  about  to  present  myself  to  our  licensed  In- 
quisitors of  the  Sorbonne,  and  in  a  week's  time  I  shall  send 

1  Prevoet-Paradol  had  been  awarded  a  prize  for  eloquence  by  the 
Academie  Franvaise  for  his  eulogy  of  Bernardin  de  Saint  Pierre. 

215 


LIFE   AND   LETTERS   OF   H.   TAINE 

150  pages  of  French  prose  and  a  big  Latin  composition  to 
M.  Gamier.  My  Sensations  are  copied  out,  but  my 
Ciceronian  sentences  are  still  in  the  rough.  Why  have  I 
been  so  quick  ?  Because  our  lords  and  masters  will  take 
at  least  a  month  to  give  the  authorization  to  send  to  press, 
and  the  printing  will  take  three  weeks.  It  would  be  im- 
possible to  tell  you  with  what  energy  I  had  to  sap  to  uproot 
that  psychological  thistle  from  my  brains  all  within  six 
weeks'  time. 

Even  now,  the  sensations,  perceptions,  imaginations, 
conceptions,  representations,  illusions,  and  the  whole 
company  of  ions  are  still  dancing  in  my  head,  and  I  am 
giddy  and  dazed,  like  a  staghound  after  chasing  one  deer 
for  thirty-six  hours.  But  it  is  a  good  system,  and  I  do  not 
think  there  is  a  better  way  of  writing  any  thing  than  by 
doing  so  straight  off  and  in  one  breath,  so  to  speak,  after 
lengthily  meditating  over  it. 

M.  Gamier  said  that  he  approved  of  the  subjects  but  not 
of  my  conclusions  (I  knew  that  since  I  dispute  Reid's 
assertions).  What  will  he  say  ?  Will  he  receive  me  ? 
That  is  the  question.  There  is  a  theory  of  the  relations 
between  the  ego  and  the  nervous  system  which  is  not 
materialistic,  but  which  will  scandalize  the  spiritualists. 
It  is  Aristotle's  eVreXe'^em  experimentally  proved.  But 
the  worst  is  that  the  rest  is  new.  You  are  already  too 
much  of  the  Academic  Frangaise  for  me  to  send  you  those 
scientific  thorns;  but,  to  tell  the  truth,  I  am  terribly 
afraid  they  will  prick  those  gentlemen's  fingers. 

As  to  the  news  for  which  you  ask,  my  dear  fellow,  there 
is  none.  I  saw  Treille  for  two  hours.  I  keep  my  pupils 
in,  and  I  obtain  perfect  silence.  Keeping  a  pupil  in  is  a 

216 


PROFESSORSHIP 

very  ingenious  system,  which  consists  in  placing  a  boy 
for  an  hour  in  a  room,  where  he  writes,  under  the  dictation 
of  the  Preparation  Master,  instead  of  going  out  to  play. 

By  the  bye,  I  am  Professor  of  Rhetoric.  Do  not  throw 
the  title  of  Philosopher  at  my  head  as  you  do  on  your 
envelopes  ;  it  would  hang  me. 

These  are  now  my  habits.  I  am  correcting  a  French 
address,  which  one  of  my  pupils  is  going  to  spout  to  His 
Grandeur  Monsignor  the  Bishop,1  who  is  coming  to  the 
College  for  Confirmation.  I  have  bought  a  Universitarian 
badge.  By  order  of  the  Rector,  I  myself  pronounce  the 
Latin  prayer  at  the  opening  of  the  class  (to  be  sure  I  have 
shortened  it  by  one  half,  as  it  was  too  long).  I  read  to 
my  pupils  Bossuet's  Treatise  on  Concupiscence ;  I  do  not 
let  them  read  VEcole  des  Femmes ;  I  have  systematically 
ceased  to  read  newspapers  ;  I  do  not  speak  about  politics, 
and  I  stay  at  home.  Add  that  I  have  been  to  two  May 
services  to  Mary  (a  prima  donna,  who  was  passing  through 
the  town,  was  the  singer).  Clearly,  after  all  this,  you  may 
commend  yourself  to  my  prayers,  and  hope  to  acquire 
my  relics  some  day  ;  if  you  become  one  of  the  forty  im- 
mortals, I  shall  one  day  join  the  holy  phalanx  of  the 
blest.  Amen,  my  brother. 

Farewell.     Send  me  news  of  your  prize,  quick. 

To  M.  Adolphe  Gamier. 

June  7,  1852. 

SIR, — The  Dean  of  Faculty,  in  sending  me  your  letter, 
gives  me  some  hope  that  my  theses  will  be  handed  to  you 
for  examination.  Allow  me  to  defend  them  against  some 

1  Mgr.  Pie. 
217 


LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF  H.  TAINE 

of  your  reproaches.  A  sick  man  cannot  plead  his  cause 
better  than  to  his  doctor. 

You  approve  of  the  subjects  ;  I  make  bold  to  say  that 
you  must  therefore  excuse  the  conclusions.  A  hackneyed 
question  can  only  be  treated  by  bringing  out  new  solutions 
of  it,  and  new  ideas  must  necessarily  contradict  those  which 
have  preceded  them.  The  choice  of  my  subjects  necessarily 
caused  the  temerity  of  my  conclusions.  Moreover,  I  had 
the  support  of  Leibnitz,  while  the  regulations  for  the 
Doctorate,  which  ask  that  theses  should  bring  to  Science 
something  new,  seemed  to  authorize  my  innovations. 

I  will  not  here  speak  of  my  proofs — they  are  in  my 
theses  ;  nor  of  the  care  I  have  brought  to  bear  on  those 
researches — my  work  will  vouch  for  that.  You  advise  me 
to  peruse  Reid  :  I  have  been  brought  up  in  his  doctrines, 
and  as  lately  as  last  year  I  wrote  a  lengthy  analysis  of  his 
writings. 

I  must  merely  defend  myself  against  general  reproaches 
and  accusations  of  tendencies ;  no,  Sir,  I  am  not  a  Sceptic 
or  a  Materialist,  any  more  than  Aristotle  or  Leibnitz,  who 
have  been  my  guides  in  my  researches  and  the  first  authors 
of  my  solutions. 

I  do  not,  any  more  than  Reid,  doubt  the  existence  of  the 
exterior  world.  My  thesis  admits  all  his  arguments.  The 
first  is  the  impossibility  of  doing  otherwise  ;  the  second  is 
the  goodness  of  the  Supreme  Cause,  who  would  not  have 
deceived  us  ;  the  third  is  the  harmony  between  the  events 
and  our  beliefs.  The  two  first  are  Descartes',  and  the 
third  Leibnitz'.  There  is  nothing  to  alter  in  them,  and  I 
alter  nothing  ;  I  merely  add  a  fourth.  In  studying  the 
construction  of  our  illusory  representations,  I  show  that 

218 


PROFESSORSHIP 

they  must  give  us  the  same  knowledge  as  true  and  direct 
intuitions  ;  I  prove  that  Nature  only  deceives  us  in  order 
to  extend  the  boundaries  of  the  intellect,  and  throws  us 
into  error  but  to  conduct  us  to  truth.  And  this  proof  gives 
the  reason  of  all  the  others.  It  shows,  by  the  analysis  of  the 
thinking-machine,  the  necessity  for  belief,  the  goodness  of 
the  Cause,  and  the  harmony  between  beliefs  and  events. 

As  to  the  nature  of  the  soul,  I,  first  of  all,  separate 
Consciousness  from  the  thinking  ego.  Alone,  it  is  attached 
to  the  nervous  system,  it  is  that  eVreXe^eia  of  the  body  of 
which  Aristotle  speaks.  Consciousness,  which  observes 
it,  has  no  position  and  no  extension  ;  it  is  attached  to  no 
organ.  Do  spiritualists  go  as  far  as  I  do  on  this  matter  ? 

As  for  the  thinking  ego,  I  own  that,  whilst  distinguishing 
it  from  pure  matter,  I  closely  unite  it  to  the  body.  But  is 
there  a  philosopher  who  does  not  likewise  ?  Does  any  one 
doubt  that  the  alterations  of  the  nerves  and  of  the  brain 
alter  the  faculty  of  feeling  ?  Is  there  a  spiritualist,  save 
Malebranche,  who  believes  that  after  the  destruction  of 
the  body  we  may  still  have  sensations  of  cold  and  heat, 
red  and  blue,  sweetness  and  bitterness  ?  Every  one  ad- 
mits that  the  soul  is  united  to  the  body.  My  thesis  states 
precisely  in  what  way  and  up  to  what  point ;  it  is  because 
it  marks  the  junction  that  it  can  mark  the  separation  ;  it 
is  because  I  say  with  Aristotle  that  the  thinking  ego  is  the 
eyreXe'xeta  of  the  nervous  system  that  I  can  say  with 
Descartes  that  Consciousness,  or  pure  Thought,  has 
nothing  in  common  with  the  body. 

These  explanations  will  be  developed  and  made  clearer 
if  the  Faculty  does  me  the  honour  of  hearing  me  in  support 
of  my  theses.  Materialism  and  scepticism  seem  to  me  not 

219 


LIFE   AND   LETTERS   OF   H.   TAINE 

a  doctrine,  but  a  disease — not  a  system,  but  an  impotency 
of  system.  It  suffices  to  seek  seriously  in  order  to  believe 
in  Truth,  and  to  live  within  oneself  to  believe  in  the  spirit. 

Finally,  perhaps  the  consequences  of  my  thesis  will  earn 
your  indulgence  for  me.  The  thinking  ego  is  the  only  object 
in  the  universe  where  we  may  observe  directly  the  union 
of  Force  and  Matter,  of  the  simple  and  the  multiple,  of  the 
Soul  and  the  Body.  There  is  the  great  problem  of  natural 
science,  and  yet,  condemned  as  it  is  to  perceive  outside 
appearances  only,  Natural  Science  can  only  solve  it  by 
hypotheses  and  conjectures.  For  Physics  and  Natural 
Science  only  make  conjectures,  only  perceiving  the  outer 
appearance  of  objects.  Psychology  solves  them  experi- 
mentally by  analysing  the  relations  of  the  nervous  system 
and  of  the  thinking  ego.  The  ego  in  its  inferior  faculties 
touches  the  natural  world  and  sums  it  up.  The  study  of 
it  is  the  abbreviated  study  of  the  natural  world.  Now,  if, 
as  I  think  I  have  proved,  our  ideas  are  but  the  conscious- 
ness of  our  representations,  it  is  clear  that  the  entire  system 
of  our  ideas  depends  on  the  representative  faculty.  But 
desires  are  born  of  ideas,  the  will  fixes  itself  according  to 
desires,  and  actions  obey  the  will.  The  whole  moral  world 
therefore  depends  on  the  representative  faculty,  and  it  is 
by  decomposing  it  that  the  moral  world  can  be  analysed 
in  its  principle.  Therefore  the  object  of  which  I  treat 
plunges  into  both  worlds  at  once,  for  it  sums  up  the  one 
and  determines  the  other  ;  the  theories  which  explain  it 
stir  up  the  whole  of  Philosophy.  On  that  account,  perhaps, 
a  new  solution  of  the  question  may  not  be  unworthy  of 
being  submitted  to  the  view  of  the  Faculty. 

I  should  be  glad,  Sir,  if  the  Faculty  would  deign  to  en- 

220 


PROFESSORSHIP 

courage  by  its  approval  some  obstinate  researches,  a  part 
of  which  I  now  offer  it,  and  which  I  shall  no  doubt  continue 
all  my  life  ;  it  would  be  in  vain  that  I  should  seek  in 
Literature,  according  to  your  advice,  an  easier  path  and 
a  happier  future  ;  only  a  long  experience  can  persuade 
me  that  I  am  entirely  unfitted  for  the  only  studies  I  love. 

My  great  desire  is  to  pass  the  examination  before  the 
holidays  ;  I  ardently  wish  to  receive  your  corrections  in 
time  to  be  ready,  if  you  think  fit,  to  present  myself  in 
August. 

I  am  sending  my  two  theses  to  the  Dean  of  Faculty. 

Kindly  accept,  Sir,  the  feelings  of  respect  with  which  I 
have  the  honour  to  be  your  obedient  servant. 


To  his  Mother. 

June  7,  1852. 

I  have  gone  to  see  the  Rector,  who  tells  me  that  nothing 
is  changed  in  the  Decree  on  the  agregation :  it  is  independent 
of  the  law  which  is  about  to  be  made.  Therefore,  no 
agregation  for  me  this  year.  I  am  thus  thrown  back 
upon  the  Doctorate,  and  the  Rector  here  has  my  theses 
to  send  them  to  the  Paris  Dean.  There  is  nothing  to  fear. 
They  are  only  about  pure  science  and  new  experiments. 
The  examiner,  in  his  letter,  reproached  me  with  dangerous 
tendencies  ;  I  have  softened  risky  passages,  and  I  have 
just  written  him  a  "  honeyed  and  serpentine  "  letter,  as 
Sophie  would  say,  to  the  effect  that  my  thesis  is  perfectly 
virtuous,  composed  for  the  greater  glory  of  God  and  the 
King,  and  that  its  tendencies  are  precisely  the  contrary  of 
what  he  blames.  The  only  danger  is  that  I  am  bringing 

221 


LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF  H.  TAINE 

out  entirely  new  ideas  and  an  important  theory.  Will  they 
understand  ?  Will  this  sudden  invention  frighten  them  * 
That  is  the  question.  I  shall  write  to  you  as  soon  as  I  have 
an  answer. 

I  have  peacefully  taken  the  oaths  ;  it  was  in  conformity 
with  my  opinions  to  do  so.  I  refused  to  adhere  to  the 
2nd  December ;  the  action  was  unjust  and  illegal,  and 
violated  my  great  dogma  of  the  Sovereignty  of  the  nation. 
Now  this  man  has  a  legitimate  power,  conferred  by  universal 
will ;  I  obey  the  law,  as  I  disapproved  of  usurpation,  and 
for  the  same  reason.  I  have  the  firmest  intention  of  making 
no  propaganda  against  him  and  of  taking  part  in  no  con- 
spiracy. My  oath  has  only  made  public  and  official  the 
most  voluntary  of  resolutions. 

Unfortunately,  several  of  my  friends  did  not  think  like- 
wise. M.  Libert,  and  M.  Magy,  who  was  a  Master  at  the 
Ecole,  have  resigned.  M.  Barthelemy  St.  Hilaire,  to  whom 
my  uncle  had  introduced  me,  M.  Simon,1  M.  Despois,  M. 
Barni,  M.  Bersot,  many  of  the  History  and  Philosophy 
Professors  have  been  discharged  ;  the  tallest  flower  spikes 
have  been  cut  down.  It  makes  promotion,  but  the  future 
is  ugly.  Yet  it  would  be  a  help  if  I  could  become  a  Doctor, 

1  Letter  from  M.  Jules  Simon  to  M.  Taine,  December,  1851 :  "I 
thank  you  for  your  expressions  of  affection.  I  did  not  for  a  moment 
doubt  that  you  would  be  one  of  those  who  will  feel  most  regret 
at  this  breaking  of  my  career.  I  may  not  have  been  so  great  a 
philosopher  as  those  of  my  colleagues  who  have  preserved  their 
chairs  at  the  Ecole  and  at  the  Sorbonne,  and  who  now  bitterly 
complain  that  /  compromised  them  ;  but  I  have  that  conviction 
that  during  eighteen  years'  teaching  I  have  ever  raised  and  never 
debased  the  minds  and  characters  of  my  pupils.  Let  them  say  as 
much  if  they  can." 

222 


PROFESSORSHIP 

and  I  have  in  view  a  prize  offered  by  the  Academy  of  Moral 
Science.  If  I  had  those  two  diplomas,  I  might  rise  after  all. 

My  friend  Prevost  has  gained  the  Academic  Fran9aise 
prize  for  eloquence.  It  will  open  to  him  the  columns  of 
newspapers  and  reviews,  and  will  start  his  literary  career  ; 
he  will  succeed  sooner  than  I,  but  we  shall  each  have  chosen 
the  path  best  suited  to  his  tastes.  Work  and  pleasure  in 
scientific  discoveries  console  me  for  everything.  It  is 
fatiguing,  but  it  prevents  me  from  dwelling  upon  sad 
things  ;  I  am  not  so  happy  now  that  my  theses  are  finished. 
I  think  of  our  long  separation,  our  rare  meetings.  ...  It 
is  only  by  living  as  I  do,  in  abstract  science  that  one  can 
dispense  with  companionship. 

Those  who  lack  this  passion  do  not  know  what  to  do 
with  themselves  ;  my  schoolfellows  get  married  or  take 
to  cafes,  or  become  as  dull  as  caged  birds.  How  nice  it 
would  be  if  you  could  settle  down  in  the  Ardennes  whilst 
I  am  sent  from  place  to  place  !  It  would  be  a  home  to- 
wards which  I  should  always  direct  my  eyes  from  the 
bottom  of  my  pit. 

Are  my  sisters  posing  before  their  brother  ?  Do  they 
write  to  a  friend  or  to  a  professor  of  French  and  spelling  ? 
Is  it  not  enough  to  be  a  pedant  in  my  class  and  to  bear  its 
official  title  written  on  my  forehead  !  Let  my  sisters  at 
least  forget  the  ridiculous  black  gown  and  square  cap 
which  disfigure  my  unfortunate  person,  and  write  to  me 
about  whatever  comes  into  their  heads,  calls,  music,  reading, 
conversations,  what  feelings  the  country  inspires  in  them, 
in  what  way  they  change  and  in  what  way  they  remain 
the  same.  Good  heavens,  do  not  let  us  pose  to  each 
other !  there  is  enough  acting  in  the  world  already, 

223 


LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF  H.  TAINE 

let  us  be  free  between  ourselves.  Sometimes  I  have 
fits  of  musical  rage  ;  I  shut  myself  up  and  improvise 
fantastic  and  demoniacal  pieces,  ridiculous  no  doubt 
in  composition  and  harmony,  but  which  express  my 
thoughts  and  make  me  happy.  It  is  all  I  ask.  A 
piano  is  a  magnificent  instrument,  the  velocity  of  the 
fingers  accumulates  notes  at  any  distance,  and  one  can 
play  in  chords.  Big  chords  played  with  all  the  fingers  of 
both  hands,  during  a  whole  piece,  have  an  infinite  majesty  ! 
and  recall  in  a  small  way  the  music  of  an  organ,  as  that  of 
Meyerbeer. 

I  sometimes  call  on  two  young  men  who  play  flute  duets 
with  much  taste  ;  it  is  very  suave,  and  soothes  the  mind 
like  a  summer  breeze. 

Now  that  I  am  writing  of  pastoral  things,  I  must  tell 
you  that  I  have  twice  been  out  in  the  country.  About  a 
league  out  of  Poitiers  there  are  woods  and  solitary  mea- 
dows. There,  everything  else  is  easily  forgotten  !  I  lay 
in  the  grass  and  it  seemed  to  me  that  I  had  but  to  let  myself 
live,  that  I  had  no  more  ambition,  no  more  cares,  and  that 
every  one  could  be  as  happy  as  myself.  The  country  is 
an  opiate  for  troubled  brains. 

Why  should  you  not  send  me  descriptions  of  society 
about  you.  Mine  is  insipid  enough  save  for  M.  Saigey  ; 
he  goes  out  a  great  deal.  Should  I  go  out  ?  I  have  such 
a  short  time  left  here ;  it  seems  almost  certain  that  I  shall 
leave  Poitiers  in  September.  And  what  should  I  say  ? 
My  friend  tells  me  that  conversation  is  altogether  on  the 
subject  of  other  people  and  of  the  news  of  the  day  ;  I  should 
not  have  time  to  become  acquainted  with  gossips,  and  as 
soon  as  I  knew  something  about  it  I  should  have  to  go. 

224 


PROFESSORSHIP 

Besides,  if  my  thesis  is  accepted  I  shall  have  the  proofs  of  it 
to  correct.  I  shall  see  one  or  two  people,  and  the  rest  of 
the  time  I  think  I  shall  stop  at  home.  It  is  the  most  com- 
fortable thing  to  do  if  one's  time  and  occupations  are  well 
regulated.  Little  pleasures  brighten  one's  life  ;  a  cup  of 
coffee  makes  me  happy  for  two  hours. 

Dear  Ninette  (Virginie)  what  say  you  of  the  spring  ? 
Is  not  your  artist  soul  ravished  ?  I  never  tire  of  admiring 
the  sky  and  the  trees  in  the  sunshine  after  the  rain.  I  think 
I  might  have  been  a  landscape  painter.  It  seems  to  me 
that  everthing  may  lend  itself  to  a  picture.  The  commonest 
places  become  splendid  in  certain  lights.  Just  now,  as 
I  was  walking  home,  I  saw  a  hideous,  stony,  tortuous  and 
deserted  street,  peopled  with  cold,  decent,  dull,  middle- 
class  houses.  It  was  cut  in  two  by  the  light ;  one  half  of 
the  sky,  black  and  coppery,  threw  a  part  of  it  into  darkness, 
with  a  metallic  reflection,  and  the  rest  of  it  shone  in  the 
purest  sunlight. 

The  sun  is  a  great  artist ;  I  understand  that  men  like 
Rembrandt  should  have  spent  their  lives  in  the  love  of 
lights  and  shades.  Great  masses  of  simple  colour  have 
a  soul,  and  it  makes  one  happy  to  look  at  them. 

I  am  going  to  the  Confirmation  to-morrow  (by  order  !). 
The  Bishop  is  giving  it  to  the  boys  in  the  College  ;  he  is 
said  to  be  eloquent ;  perhaps  I  shall  enjoy  it.  One  of  my 
pupils  (I  have  chosen  the  one  who  gets  highest  marks  at 
the  religious  lectures)  will  address  him  in  a  short  speech, 
which  I  have  corrected  and  made  as  brief  and  as  simple 
as  I  could.  Just  fancy,  the  Chaplain  wanted  me  to  write 
a  French  or  Latin  ode  with  my  own  hand,  and  to  put  it 
in  the  mouth  of  one  of  my  young  starlings  !  You  can 

225  Q 


LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF  H.  TAINE 

imagine  how  I  hastened  to  reject  such  a  suggestion.  The 
funniest  part  of  it  is  that  he  wanted  a  dithyrambico- 
pindarico-galimatiaco-logical  ode  with  full  orchestra  on 
the  sublimity  and  present  importance  of  a  priest's  pro- 
fession !  He  had  indeed  come  to  the  wrong  shop  !  It  is 
enough  to  be  flogged  without  having  to  kiss  the  rod. 

To  Edouard  de  Suckau. 

MEIN  LIBELING, — The  fault  was  yours,  I  was  awaiting 
an  answer.  Besides,  as  you  rightly  guessed,  I  was  in  tra- 
vail ;  the  parent  and  twin  progeny  are  doing  well.  Alas, 
my  dear  boy,  wish  them  life  and  prosperity  !  They  were 
given  up  to  the  Rector  a  week  ago,  and  are  no  doubt  at 
this  moment  between  the  licensed  claws  of  M.  Gamier. 
0,  good  Gamier,  adored  Gamier,  i\f&><?  earw  teal  7rpao<; : 
Sancte  Reid,  ora  pro  nobis.  What  will  happen,  old  man  1 
I  joined  to  my  thesis  a  serpentlike  letter,  proving  that  I 
added  demonstrations  to  dogmatism  and  to  spiritualism. 
But  I  say  so  much  that  is  new  !  I  bristle  with  horror  and, 
like  the  Saints,  I  await  the  Last  Judgment  in  fear  and 
trembling.  It  seems  to  me  that  the  august  Doctor's 
diploma,  cap  and  gown,  flee  from  my  sight,  saying,  "  Never 
to  return."  I  read  Hegel's  Philosophy  of  History  in  order 
to  divert  my  mind  from  it  all. 

I  do  not  know  what  to  say  to  you  about  my  conclusions, 
my  Ed. ;  there  is  no  means  of  summing  up  in  one  page  one 
hundred  and  sixty  pages  written  in  Civil  Code  style.  Yet 
here  are  a  few  points :  1°  The  soul,  insomuch  as  it  is  capable 
of  Feeling,  but  not  of  Consciousness,  is  the  eVreXe'^em  of  the 
nervous  system,  extended  and  indivisible.  2°  The  sensations 

226 


PROFESSORSHIP 

are  the  modifications  of  the  ego  in  the  nerves.  Modifications 
analogous  to  the  sensations  take  place  in  the  brain  during 
sensation,  and  are  reproduced  afterwards  under  the  name  of 
Images.  3°  Consciousness,  though  a  system  of  natural  illu- 
sion and  involuntary  abstractions,  perceives  in  the  present 
individual  ego  the  past,  the  future,  the  non-ego,  the  universal. 
4°  The  whole  forms  one  faculty,  the  representative  faculty, 
and  solves  the  following  problem  :  given  a  Consciousness, 
extend  its  bearings  and  pass  its  boundaries  by  making 
known  to  it  the  past,  the  future,  the  non-ego,  the  universal. 
In  my  opinion,  the  machine  which  solves  the  question  is 
of  a  magnificent  simplicity  and  complexity,  and  invincibly 
proves  that  Nature  tends  towards  Science. 

And  you,  Sir,  who  make  a  pretence  of  writing  me  a  letter, 
what  do  I  know  of  your  ideas  ?  You  are  a  miser,  a  sultan, 
a  Gobseck.  Quick,  raise  the  veil,  show  your  mysterious 
beauties  and  your  philosophical  crimes. 

Turn  victor  madido  prosilias  toro 
Noctumi  referens  praelii  vulnera. 

Where  do  you  find  enough  rose-water,  skim-milk,  and 
Catholic  perfumes  to  disguise  the  penetrating  odour  of  that 
Spinozic  Liberty  which  you  intend  to  serve  at  the  banquet 
of  the  Sorbonnians.  A  regular  den  of  sanctimonious  cats, 
my  dear  fellow  !  Come,  give  me  some  details,  or  at  least 
your  formulae  in  the  rough.  I  expect  my  theses  back  in 
a  month.  It  seems  that  they  will  take  an  infinite  time 
turning  them  over,  playing  with  them,  scratching  them, 
etc.  Then  three  weeks  at  the  printer's  !  After  that,  I 
fall  into  your  arms  in  Paris,  and,  with  you,  lay  Academic 
laurels  on  Anatole'a  brow. 

227 


LIFE    AND   LETTERS   OF   H.    TAINE 

What  nonsense  I  do  write  to  you  !  A  propos  of  that 
I  want  to  consult  you,  Psychologist,  on  a  personal  psy- 
chological fact.  Listen  to  this  extraordinary  contradiction. 
I  thought  I  should  cool  down  in  the  provinces  ;  I  am  dieting 
myself  with  pure  abstractions  ;  the  eWeXe^em,  images, 
and  representations  have  nothing  heating  about  them  ;  it 
seems  to  me  that  I  ought  to  cease  to  be  a  man  and  become 
a  mere  idea.  Well,  no,  my  friend.  I  have  just  been 
reading  George  Sand's  Compagnons  du  Tour  de  France,  and 
my  soul  is  boiling  over.  There  is  a  physical  and  moral  stir 
in  my  heart  and  mind,  of  the  like  of  which  I  had  no  idea. 
And  this  is  constantly  the  case.  What  is  this  flowing 
fountain  of  all  sorts  of  passions  which  has  suddenly  sprung 
forth  within  me  ?  Why  such  abrupt  manners,  such  hurried 
speech  and  exalted  words  ?  Why  am  I  obliged  to  read 
no  newspapers,  and  to  avoid  all  religious  or  political  con- 
versation for  fear  I  should  escape  ? 

Why  do  I  feel  my  blind  and  fiery  beast  pulling  at  the 
bridle  and  bounding  forward  every  minute  ?  There  are 
days  when  I  could  beat  myself,  when  I  feel  I  must  strike 
at  something  corporal  or  spiritual.  What  devil  of  an 
animal  is  it  which  has  awakened  within  me  ?  Do  you 
know  it  ?  It  troubles  me  very  much.  Try  and  send  me 
its  pedigree.  Dear  old  friend,  how  often  I  long  for  you  to 
soothe  me  ! 

Tout  respire  en  Esther  1'innocence  et  la  paix, 
Du  chagrin  le  plus  noir  elle  ecarte  les  ombres, 
Et  fait  des  jours  sereins  de  mes   jours  les  plus  sombres. 
— (Racine,  Esther,  Act.  II.  sc.  vii.) 

Seriously,  if  you  were  here  just  now,  I  should  scamper 
about  like  a  goat,  and  I  am  even  now  dancing  a  succession 

228 


PROFESSORSHIP 

of  inward  sarabands.     And  all  that  is  the  effect  of  a  little 
George  Sand  ! 

H.  Taine  to  Prevost-Paradol. 

June  22,  1852. 

MY  DEAR  PREVOST, — I  not  only  allow  you,  but  implore 
you  to  speak  to  M.  Garnier.  I  hope  he  has  received  my 
thesis.  It  was  sent  to  the  Paris  Rector,  with  letters  for 
M.  Garnier  and  M.  Le  Clerc,  and  I  imagine,  without,  how- 
ever, having  any  proofs  of  it,  that  the  whole  must  have 
arrived.  And  if  you  have  any  influence  on  M.  Garnier, 
obtain  from  him  permission  for  my  thesis  (if  accepted) 
to  be  returned  to  me  at  the  end  of  July.  I  must  have  a 
fortnight  for  printing,  and  the  judges  must  have  them  ten 
days  before  the  time.  I  shall  barely  get  through  before 
the  vacation,  and  I  am  most  anxious  to  do  so. 

You  are  acquiring  a  deplorable  habit  of  putting  your 
lines  six  feet  apart  from  each  other,  and  of  making  each 
letter  as  tall  as  a  house  ;  the  result  is  that  your  epistles 
are  becoming  painfully  short,  and  I  miss  my  Prevost 
dreadfully ;  I  don't  know  what  he  is  doing.  Does  he  go  out 
into  Society,  among  the  University  elite,  since  he  meets 
M.  Garnier  at  ladies'  houses  ?  How  far  has  he  got  with 
his  History  ?  I  have  just  been  reading  Hegel's  Philosophy 
of  History,  it  is  a  fine  work,  though  too  hypothetical  and 
not  precise  enough.  I  am  chewing  more  and  more  the 
cud  of  that  great  philosophical  fodder  of  which  I  have  said 
a  word  to  you,  and  which  would  consist  in  making  a  science 
of  History,  and  in  giving  it,  as  to  the  organic  world,  an 
anatomy  and  a  physiology. 

229 


LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF  H.  TAINE 

What  is  the  trouble1  which  has  made  you  ill  ?  Scold 
me  if  I  am  indiscreet,  though,  to  tell  the  truth,  there  are 
but  few  questions  which  can  be  indiscreet  between  us. 

But  I  do  not  see  you,  I  do  not  know  your  thoughts,  you 
are  hiding  in  a  cloud  and  becoming  a  myth.  Have  you 
by  any  chance  remained  in  Pekin  or  in  Bombay  ?  Are 
you  a  Mandarin  or  a  Fakir  ?  You  are  forgetting  me,  old 
fellow,  and  in  a  few  years'  time  we  shall  end  our  letters 
thus  :  "  I  have  the  honour  to  be,  Sir,  your  very  humble 
and  very  devoted  servant." 

Do  you  know  that  I  have  made  all  sorts  of  efforts  to 
procure  here  that  Review  of  the  Academy  of  Moral  Science 
which  contains  the  question  on  Sleep.  Impossible  to  obtain 
it.  You  are  now  my  only  resource  and  condemned  to  send 
it  me  yourself.  You  see  that  the  laurels  of  Miltiades  are 
keeping  me  from  sleep. 

Also  give  me  M.  Magy's  address  if  you  have  it ;  after 
his  dismissal  I  owe  him  at  least  a  letter.  Have  you  heard 
anything  of  Planat's  means  of  livelihood  and  of  the  cause 
which  removed  him  from  the  Illustration  ? 

Why  should  you  not  write  on  Duclos.2  Nobody  has 
ever  done  so  that  I  know  of,  and  the  Academy  never  pro- 
posed it  for  a  prize.  Portraits  attract  you,  like  that  good 
La  Gueronniere,  and  you  want  to  beat  the  Sorbonne  with 
the  same  weapons  as  the  Academy. 

1  Greard,  p.  195  :  "I  have  not  been  well  lately ;  it  is  partly  due 
to  the  weather,  and  partly  to  a  trouble  that  I  have  had." 

2  Prevost-Paradol  had  consulted  M.  Taine  as  to  a  subject  for  his 
thesis.     Greard,  p.  195 :  "  I  want  it  to  be :  1°  On  French  Literature  ; 
2*  About  one  man ;  3°  In  the  eighteenth  century ;  4°  A  short  busi- 
ness."    He  ended  by  writing  on  a  historical  subject,  Elizabeth  and 
Henry  IV. 

230 


PROFESSORSHIP 

Edmond  has  been  travelling  in  Mecca,  and  is  writing 
about  it.  His  ambassador  follows  processions,  taper  in 
hand  ;  one  of  the  attaches  is  secretary  to  M.  de  Monta- 
lembert,  another  has  just  been  to  Rome  on  a  pilgrimage 
and  on  his  return  become  a  Dominican.  There  are  but 
female  monkeys  in  Athens,  but  some  magnificent  figures 
in  Morea ;  unfortunately,  the  beauties  do  not  work. 
Francisque1  is  cogitating  on  a  thesis  on  Macrobus  (what 
a  subject !),  and  fraternizes  with  Dottain.  Quinot  is 
basking  like  a  lizard  in  Algiers,  and  has  been  thinking  for 
six  months  that  perhaps  it  would  be  a  good  thing  to  decide 
to  learn  Arabic.  Edouard  discourses  inwardly  on  Liberty. 
Why  did  you  tell  M.  Simon  that  I  had  sent  my  thesis  to 
M.  Gamier  ?  I  wrote  to  the  Dean,  who  sent  me  back  a 
consultation  from  M.  Gamier. 

Since  you  are  a  friend  of  M.  Gerusez,  you  might  remind 
him  that  I  am  a  countryman  of  his.  I  shall  try  and  read 
the  Review  of  Public  Instruction.  For  four  months  I  have 
touched  no  politics  or  any  other  business  of  the  day. 

Nothing  new  here  ;  dreams  and  work. 

Speak  to  M.  Gamier.  Yours. 

M.  Adolphe  Gamier  to  H.  Taine* 

June  20,  1852. 

SIR, — I  have  read  with  the  greatest  attention  the  two 
theses  which  you  have  handed  to  M.  le  Doyen.  It  is  not 
in  the  course  of  a  letter  that  I  can  dispute  your  assertions. 
That,  in  believing  that  we  know  the  exterior,  we  only  know 

1  Sarcey ;  he  abandoned  this  thesis. 

2  This  letter  only  reached  Poitiers  after  the  preceding  one  had 
been  sent. 

231 


LIFE   AND   LETTERS   OF   H.   TAINE 

ourselves,  and  that  nevertheless  this  error  happens  to  con- 
form with  truth,  as  if,  in  your  hypothesis,  you  had  means 
of  knowing  the  truth  !  "  that  the  senses  deceive  us  and 
that,  in  consequence,  their  knowledge  is  not  direct,  etc.,  etc." 
All  this  would  be  matter  for  discussion  when  supporting 
your  thesis,  but  the  statement  which  I  do  not  think  possible 
to  let  you  support  before  the  Faculty,  especially  in  the 
present  circumstances,  when  the  enemies  of  Philosophy 
watch  it  so  narrowly  and  slander  it  so  willingly,  is  this  : 
"  that  there  is  an  extended  ego,  long,  broad,  round,  square, 
etc."  As  the  opinion  I  have  just  announced  would  tend  to 
make  you  lose  the  fruit  of  lengthy  labour  (your  Latin 
thesis  being  but  a  continuation  of  the  French  one  and 
destined  to  share  its  fate),  I  will  not  take  upon  myself 
the  responsibility  of  a  decision,  and  I  will  ask  M.  le  Doyen 
to  consult  on  this  subject  M.  Damiron,  and  M.  Saisset, 
who  was  your  master  at  the  Ecole,  and  who  bears  you  the 
friendship  which  you  deserve  for  your  distinguished 
qualities. 

I  sincerely  wish  that  their  impression  may  differ  from 
mine,  and  beg  of  you  to  receive  the  particular  compliments 
of  your  devoted  servant, 

ADOLPHE  GARNIER. 

H:  Taine  to  Mademoiselle  Sophie  Taine. 

June  22,  1852. 

On  my  knees,  with  folded  hands  and  downcast  eyes,  I 
humbly  kiss  the  hem  of  your  garment,  Mademoiselle,  and 
am  ready  for  all  possible  genuflexions,  prostrations,  adora- 
tions and  submissions,  in  order  to  untie  your  dumb  tongue 
and  to  place  a  pen  between  your  fingers. 

232 


PROFESSORSHIP 

A  bailiff's  warrant  was  necessary  to  draw  a  letter  from 
your  venerable  sister.  Will  you  be  more  refractory  ?  What 
is  it  that  prevents  you,  during  your  long  and  dull  days,  from 
speaking  your  solitary  thoughts  to  your  friend  and  brother  ? 
The  best  fruits  decay  if  kept.  And  is  there  really  any 
happiness  in  life  but  conversation  ?  Perhaps  I  now  need 
it  less  than  another  might ;  the  world  in  which  I  live  is  so 
abstract  and  unfrequented  that  I  have  given  up  looking 
for  company.  But,  whenever  I  leave  it  and  find  myself 
alone  on  my  chair,  or  seated  at  my  piano  in  the  evening, 
our  old  evenings  come  back  to  my  mind  and  I  long  to  talk 
with  you.  Dear  child,  when  will  that  time  come  back  ? 

How  rose-coloured  everything  seems  to  young  eyes  ! 
I  know  no  truer  idea  than  that  saying  of  Chateaubriand's  : 
"  If  I  still  believed  in  happiness,  I  should  look  for  it  in 
habit."  To  distribute  one's  time  so  that  it  should  always 
be  occupied,  to  work  in  a  consecutive  manner  even  at  an 
uninteresting  work,  to  direct  a  household,  to  have  a  pro- 
fession that,  on  the  whole,  is  a  happy  life.  Poor  happiness 
is  it  not  ?  but  it  is  the  only  one  there  is.  I  experienced 
it,  much  to  my  astonishment,  when  I  copied  out  my  thesis. 
At  first  the  idea  appalled  me  !  150  pages  to  transcribe, 
adding  or  retouching  bits  here  and  there,  inventing  nothing, 
originating  nothing  !  it  seemed  to  me  but  cobbler's  work  ! 
I  set  to  work  through  sheer  necessity  and  continued  with 
positive  pleasure  ;  an  effort  was  constantly  required  to 
correct  a  passage  or  to  make  it  more  lucid,  dullness  was 
taken  away,  and  success  brought  joy  along  with  it.  And 
then  the  work  was  progressing  like  a  growing  child  or  an 
increasing  fortune,  and  the  insensible  growth  delighted  me. 
We  were  wrong  to  despise  this  regular  and  mechanical 

233 


LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF  H.  TAINE 

life.  I  sometimes  find  pleasure  even — and  a  relaxation 
always — in  correcting  the  hideous  mistakes  of  the  flock  of 
geese  of  whom  I  am  the  keeper. 

Occupation  and  the  constant  pursuit  of  some  object 
slowly  approached  is  healthy  life,  the  rest  is  disease.  My 
science  tells  me  that  great  joys  and  great  passions  are  but 
excesses,  alterations,  overturnings,  and  that,  consequently, 
a  man  experiencing  many  of  them  would  cease  to  be  able 
to  act,  to  feel  and  to  live.  This  is  sad  and  true.  There 
are  but  two  regimes  in  this  world  :  1°  opium,  intoxication, 
ecstasy,  languor,  sickness  and  death ;  and  2°  boiled  beef, 
monotony,  boredom  and  health  ;  on  that  prose,  a  little 
poetry,  perhaps,  a  few  flowers  by  those  insipid  dishes — 
Art,  conversation,  the  country,  added  to  the  daily  flatness 
of  work  and  housekeeping.  Such  is  the  extent  of  -  my 
present  ideal.  A  practical  life  alters  a  man,  does  it  not  ? 
and  what  I  am  saying  sounds  provincial  and  old-fashioned  ! 

Alas,  my  dear,  I  have  lost  the  rose-coloured  glasses 
through  which  I  used  to  look  at  things,  and  now  that  I  see 
the  world  with  unencumbered  eyes,  everything  seems  to 
me  black  or  dark  grey. 

I  know  nothing  yet  of  my  thesis,  I  do  not  even  know 
whether  I  shall  get  an  answer  before  August.  In  any  case 
the  prize-giving  here  is  for  the  10th,  and  the  Faculty 
vacates  on  the  30th.  I  can  and  must  therefore  only  stay 
in  Paris  from  the  10th  to  the  30th,  unless  you  wish  to  spend 
the  holidays  there,  in  which  case  I  shall  have  the  honour 
and  joy  of  being  your  respectful  attendant. 


234 


PROFESSORSHIP 

To  Edouard  de  Suckau. 

June  27,  1852. 

MY  DEAR  OLD  MAN, — Do  not  mention  what  I  am  going 
to  tell  you  until  the  affair  is  definitely  settled.  M.  Gamier 
has  just  answered  that  my  theses  are  scandalous,  that  the 
extended  ego  is  a  heresy,  but  that  before  refusing  me,  he  is 
going  to  submit  the  matter  to  MM.  Saisset  and  Damiron. 
I  am  writing  a  strong  though  polite  letter  to  M.  Saisset, 
urging  on  him  the  fact  that  the  Faculty  prints  on  the  theses 
that  it  neither  approves  nor  blames,  and  that  I  can  there- 
fore compromise  it  in  no  wise  ;  also  that  I  merely  developed 
a  phrase  of  Aristotle's  and  one  of  Leibnitz,  and  that  all  the 
precedents  are  in  my  favour  ;  that,  moreover,  I  expressly 
said  that  the  feeling  ego  alone  is  extended,  and  proved  that 
Consciousness  is  without  position  or  extension,  attached 
to  no  organ,  which  is  Descartes'  own  doctrine,  and  finally 
that  it  would  be  absurd  to  close  the  mouths  of  Descartes, 
Leibnitz  and  Aristotle.  I  conclude  by  suggesting  many 
corrections  which  would  not  materially  alter  my  meaning. 
I  am  now  awaiting  an  answer,  but  without  much  hope. 
They  are  intolerant  cowards,  and  nothing  is  worse  than 
inquisitorial  hares.  If  they  reject  me,  I  know  a  M. 
Bertereau  here  who  is  Professor  of  Philosophy,  I  shall  try 
here.  If  I  get  the  degree  it  does  not  much  matter  whether 
I  am  a  Poitiers  or  a  Paris  doctor,  as  long  as  I  have  no  more 
to  do  with  that  flock  of  shivering  birds.  This  is  the  second 
storm  which  breaks  over  me  because  I  could  not  resign 
myself  to  official  banality.  This  is  an  unfortunate  year  ; 
ayregation  failure,  Philosophy  ajregation  suppressed, 
Literature  agregation  prepared  and  then  suppressed, 

235 


LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF  H.  TAINE 

Doctorate  practically  lost !  I  find  every  door  slammed  in 
my  face.  What  could  I  do  ?  I  had  no  subject  but  Philo- 
sophy, nothing  in  History,  save  Germany,  which  would 
have  been  climbing  the  scaffold.  In  dogma  I  am  fit  for 
the  latter,  and  what  I  had  chosen  seemed  least  perilous. 
The  devil  take  it  all !  I  shall  let  you  know  when  I  have 
an  answer.  Do  write  to  cheer  me  up.  I  cheer  myself  up  by 
thinking  that  I  have  my  thesis  anyhow.  It  is  the  begin- 
ning of  a  big  work  which  I  have  in  my  mind,  and  I  seriously 
believe  it  is  new  and  good.  I  forget  my  troubles  now  in 
working  on  a  Theory  of  the  Intellect,  I  soar  in  space  ;  the 
earth  is  so  bad  that  one  must  fly  to  heaven. 

But  you,  dear  friend,  what  are  you  doing  ?  It  is  cer- 
tainly not  for  your  Doctor's  degree  that  you  are  distilling 
the  little  chemical  precipitate  of  which  the  three  component 
substances  rre  Jesus  Christ,  Hegel  and  Spinoza  ?  Your  work 
has  become  metamorphosed  in  your  hands.  I  was  expect- 
ing a  Theory  of  Human  Determination,  and  it  seems  to  me 
that  you  are  writing  a  treatise  De  omni  re  scibili  et  quibusdam 
aliis.  That  theory  of  yours  that  Man  is  God  and  must  be 
substituted  for  God  more  and  more,  is  that  a  morality  ? 
Send  me  your  title  and  tell  me  in  which  of  Science's  frames 
you  place  your  picture.  You  will  probably  wait  for  the 
next  Revolution  before  publishing  that  German  horror,  and, 
in  all  probability,  you  will  have  to  wait  a  long  time.  For 
you  say  you  wish  to  be  lucid  and  popular  and  avoid  the 
abstractions  which  are  too  exalted  to  be  easily  intelligible. 
My  dear  fellow,  vulgarisators  are  the  very  first  to  be  burnt ; 
innocent  brains  which  do  no  good  to  any  one  but  them- 
selves are  sometimes  tolerated,  the  others  never.  Hegel 
only  endured  by  acting  a  Christian  parade  in  his  philo- 

236 


PROFESSORSHIP 

sophical  theatre,  by  changing  the  nature  of  the  dogma  to 
accommodate  it  to  his  science  ;  by  saying,  for  instance, 
that  religion  is  true  because  it  has  proclaimed  a  Man-God, 
and  that  Man  is  God.  If  I  save  myself  at  the  Faculty,  it 
will  be  by  sounding  the  drum  on  Descartes  and  Aristotle, 
by  crushing  atomistic  materialists,  preaching  spirituality 
and  disguising  mortality.  Let  us  think  for  ourselves,  let 
us  do  like  Leibnitz,  who  used  to  print  fifteen  copies  of  his 
works  and  send  them  to  his  friends.  Let  us  leave  the 
fools — i.e.  everybody — to  follow  the  natural  bent  and  join 
us  in  three  thousand  years'  time.  All  the  efforts  you  want 
to  make  to  set  their  heavy  waggon  in  motion  will  not  make 
it  advance  one  inch.  Let  us  speak  to  those  minds  who  have 
the  will  and  the  power,  and  wait  for  better  times  before 
shouting,  You  will  be  in  Paris  in  a  few  days ;  read  my 
thesis  if  it  is  still  there. 

But,  my  dear  Ed.,  I  dare  to  proffer  a  request ;  you  will 
have  three  months  for  your  family  and  the  metropolis.  Will 
you  be  good  enough  to  abstract  a  week  therefrom,  and  to 
take  your  flight  into  the  Ardennes  with  me,  when  I  can 
show  you  my  woods  and  streams  ?  It  will  be  the  only 
way  of  having  a  real  good  talk.  We  shall  meet  in  Paris, 
but  I  should  like  to  have  you  all  to  myself.  Do,  do  say 
you  will ! 

Prevost  is  writing  for  the  Instruction  Publique  ;  I  am 
afraid  he  is  sinking  into  academical  ways ;  his  articles 
are  not  amusing  enough.  But  he  praises  Gerusez  and 
acquires  importance  and  friends.  One  day  we  will  go  to 
applaud  his  reception  into  the  Academy. 

Edmond  has  been  round  the  Morea,  and  finds  Athens 
a  blank.  He  is  writing  about  his  travels  and  says  that 

237 


LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF  H.  TAINE 

he  has  for  the  first  time  experienced  the  sentiment  of  the 
Beautiful. 

Nothing  here  new  ;  I  am  rather  tired,  but  working  never- 
theless. My  piano  is  pretty  good,  and  I  have  a  sofa.  My 
greatest  pleasure  is  the  companionship  of  an  old  school- 
fellow, a  Polytechnician,  witty  and  with  an  open  mind. 

But  when  shall  I  have  you,  my  Ed.,  my  dear  Ed.  ?  If 
we  could  go  to  the  same  town  !  It  is  possible,  for  now  I 
wish  to  stick  to  literature.  In  a  little  while  I  should  find 
it  impossible  to  teach  philosophy.  Heretical  gangrene 
grows  in  me  every  day  ;  and  you  ? 

My  Latin  thesis  is  on  Exterior  Perception. 

To  his  Mother. 

July  6,  1852. 

Where  and  how  shall  I  end  the  year  ?  I  know  nothing 
as  yet ;  I  have  had  an  answer  from  Paris,  but  they  are 
making  difficulties  as  to  the  conclusions  of  my  thesis  ;  I 
shall  only  have  a  definite  decision  when  two  other  Professors 
have  been  consulted  ;  one  is  M.  Saisset,  my  former  master. 
I  have  written  to  him  politely  but  strongly,  pointing  out 
to  him  that  those  of  my  ideas  which  are  considered  dan- 
gerous are  already  to  be  found  in  the  most  accepted  Philo- 
sophers, that  I  have  conformed  to  all  the  regulations,  that 
I  am  sending  two  entirely  original  theses,  solving  two 
difficulties  hitherto  declared  to  be  inexplicable,  and  es- 
pecially that  the  Faculty  declares  on  the  title  page  of  every 
thesis  that  it  neither  approves  nor  blames  the  opinions  of 
the  candidates,  that  its  responsibility  is  therefore  covered, 
etc.  ...  If  they  throw  me  out  there  remains  one  door 
to  me  here  :  I  know  a  M.  Bertereau,  Professor  of  Philo- 

238 


PROFESSORSHIP 

sophy,  and  perhaps  I  may  be  able  to  pass  !  But  all  this 
is  yet  very  uncertain  ;  be  assured  that  you  will  have  the 
first  news  I  receive. 

It  is  difficult  to  make  one's  way,  is  it  not  ?  I  am  re- 
minded at  this  moment  of  a  great  maxim  which  we  read 
in  Stendthal1  last  year:  "Under  an  absolute  government 
the  first  condition  of  success  is  to  have  neither  enthusiasm 
nor  wit."  Our  great  official  men  here  are  indeed  admirable. 
The  Rector  is  a  former  professor  of  grammar,  dry,  narrow- 
minded,  pedantic,  dogmatical,  a  regular  rumbling  wheel, 
who  would  like  me  to  spend  my  time  in  correcting  my 
pupils'  mistakes  in  punctuation.  The  Pro  visor  has  the 
same  origin,  but  he  is  but  soft  paste,  a  plug  of  cotton- wool 
who  is  nothing  by  himself  and  gives  way  to  every  impres- 
sion without  preserving  a  single  one.  The  longer  I  live 
the  lower  I  bring  down  the  level  at  which  my  mind  had 
placed  mankind  ;  I  think  I  shall  have  to  bring  it  yet  lower 
to  reach  the  proper  height. 

Nevertheless,  I  am  working  at  a  thing  which  in  a  few 
years'  time  may  become  a  work.  It  is  my  life,  my  refuge, 
perhaps  my  future.  I  have  but  few  favourable  chances 
in  the  great  official  road  ;  one  only  progresses  in  it  with 
tortoise  steps,  and  great  promotion  is  bought  by  great 
acts  of  cowardice  or  by  a  natural  servility.  The  Govern- 
ment itself  declares  that  it  will  take  less  account  of  talent 
than  of  moral  guarantees  ;  that  is  why  the  competition 
has  been  suppressed  ;  the  competition  which  remains  is 
no  longer  for  merit  but  for  obedience.  I  will  not  go  in 
for  that,  you  would  not  wish  me  to.  Only  a  book  seems 
possible,  and,  politics  being  forbidden,  only  Science  remains. 

1  La  Chartreuse  de  Parme. 
239 


LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF  H.  TAINE 

Now  I  find  in  myself  a  quantity  of  ideas,  I  see  an  uncul- 
tivated field ;  I  have  strong  arms  and  I  will  plough  it.  I 
hope  to  begin  with  practical  things  in  order  to  attract 
readers.  There  is  the  future.  Let  us  look  that  way  when 
trouble  falls  on  me  and  let  us  cheer  each  other  up.  I  am 
submerged  for  a  moment,  but  this  hope  sets  me  afloat 
again  ;  let  us  sail  merrily  !  ! 

To  Edouard  de  Suckau. 

July  17,  1852. 

DEAR  ED., — I  expected  the  death  sentence.  Thank 
you  for  all  your  trouble,  and  see  that  you  profit  by  the 
lesson  for  your  own  thesis.  The  intolerance  is  worse 
perhaps  than  you  imagine  ;  M.  Simon  writes  that  they 
have  just  refused  a  thesis  on  Saint-Martin  by  Caro  (the 
Catholic).1  They  want  the  candidates  to  write  second 
editions  of  their  manuals. 

The  charming  Saisset2  acted  a  play  before  you,  old 
fellow  !  A  professor  from  this  place  who  went  to  Paris 

1  Oaro,  of  the  Academic  Fran9aise,  b.  1826,  d.  1887.     His  thesis 
was  accepted  nevertheless  ;  it  is  entitled  Mysticism  in  the  Eighteenth 
Century. 

2  Letter  from  E.  de  Suckau  written  on  July  10,  after  calling  on 
M.  Taine's  examiners :    "  M.  Damiron  had  read  your  thesis  rather 
quickly,  but  had  seen  before  he  had  read  half  that  it  was  out  of  the 
question  that  you  should  be  allowed  to  support  it.     He  said  that 
when  addressing  a  Faculty,  and  knowing  its  ideas,  it  would  be 
presumption  to  expect  it  to  accept  others.  .  .  .  He  had  looked  up 
your  antecedents,  and  had  heard  of  your  ideas  on  Liberty  and  on 
other  things.     He  thought  you  were  following  a  disastrous  train  of 
thought,  which  would  never  lead  you  to  a  Doctor's  degree  through 
Philosophy.     He  advised  you  to  take  up  a  literary  subject.  .  .-  . 
Of  M.  Gamier,  I  only  extracted  this  word :    '  I  shall  never  consent 

240 


PROFESSORSHIP 

ten  days  ago,  spoke  of  my  thesis  to  the  Dean,  who  told 
him  that  it  had  just  been  read  by  the  little  man  and  handed 
to  M.  Damiron.  They  have  not  yet  sent  it  back.  Since 
it  is  lost,  drag  it  out  of  their  clutches  and  read  it.  I  have 
a  rough  copy  of  it,  but  it  is  very  untidy  and  it  would  take 
me  ten  days  to  copy  it  out.  He  found  my  letter  unintelli- 
gible in  order  to  avoid  answering  it.  My  mistake  consists 
in  having  believed  in  their  advertisement,  in  having 
thought  that  they  were  in  good  faith  asking  for 
"discoveries"  (see  Regulations).  Spectators  will  do  well 
not  to  be  taken  in  by  the  show  at  the  door  !  When 
they  are  inside  their  necks  are  wrung.  It  is  the  story  of 
La  Fontaine's  turkey :  I  ought  to  have  seen  the  cook  and 
the  carving  knife  and  known  that  they  were  about  to  place 
me 

Comfortably  in  a  large  dish, 

An  honour  which  the  bird 

Easily  would  have   renounced. 

Ugh  !  Let  us  shake  hands,  and  to  the  devil  with  the  In- 
quisitors. 

We  absolutely  must  find  means  of  spending  four  or  five 
days  together.  Think  of  it !  Another  year  without  meet- 
that  one  should  speak  of  an  extended  ego ;  it  is  too  coarse.'  "  M. 
Saisset  had  received  from  you  a  letter  which  was  unintelligible 
to  him.  Your  thesis  had  not  been  in  his  hands,  and  he  had  not 
thought  proper  to  ask  to  see  it.  ...  At  the  Ecole,  everything 
might  be  discussed  privately,  and  nobody  need  know  any- 
thing about  it ;  but  at  the  Sorbonne  it  is  not  the  same  thing, 
everybody  looks  on.  It  is  not  good  sense  (his  own  words)  to  speak 
on  Philosophy  without  taking  any  account  of  public  opinion.  .  .  . 
M.  Saisset  thinks  that  the  ruin  of  the  University  and  of  philosophic 
teaching  was  consummated  by  your  lesson  at  the  Sorbonne.-  Inde 
»>«." 

241  R 


LIFE   AND   LETTERS   OF   H.   TAINE 

ing  !  we  should  not  recognize  each  other.  My  Ardennes 
are  quite  near,  and  really  pretty.  If  you  come,  I  shall 
love  you  as  much  as  you  deserve  (superlative  !).  In  any 
case,  do  not  start  before  August  15.  The  last  written 
examination  here  is  on  the  10th  and  the  prize-giving  on 
the  17th  ;  but  I  shall  get  out  of  the  prize-giving  and  try 
to  gather  my  examination  Committee  together.  (Would 
you  believe  that  here  each  composition  is  corrected  by 
three  Professors ;  three  texts  are  sent  up  for  the  Rector 
to  choose  from,  etc. — absurd  punctiliousness  !)  You  must 
understand  that  our  philosophical  productions  must  com- 
municate with  each  other,  and  my  Sensation  needs  to 
embrace  your  Liberty.  Letters  are  tables  of  contents  ; 
the  book  is  required,  I  want  to  read  you  ;  find  a  means. 

Your  news  distresses  me.  Poor  M.  Vacherot !  He 
giving  private  lessons  ! l  M.  Simon  a  private  tutor  !  A 
Government  is  indeed  strong  when  it  holds  people  by  famine. 
If  you  see  M.  Vacherot,  offer  him  my  sympathy  ;  I  did  not 
know  that  that  oath  had  been  asked  nor  that  he  had 
refused  it.  Is  then  our  promise  such  a  grave  thing  ?  and 
have  we  committed  a  mean  action  ?  Seriously,  I  thought 
not,  and  I  still  think  not.  We  obey  the  national  will,  we 
promise  to  make  no  plots,  no  propaganda  ;  is  that  dis- 
honouring ourselves  ? 

Nothing  from  Anatole ;  what  is  he  doing  ?  Has  he  finished 
with  his  Chinese  ?  Crousle  writes  distressing  news  from 

1  "  &L  Vacherot  is  one  of  the  most  unfortunate,  he  has  not  only 
himself  to  think  of  and  is  anxious  about  his  family.  His  friends 
are  trying  to  dissuade  him  from  refusing,  and  are  giving  the  best 
advice,  that  of  example.  He  has  not  been  able  to  make  up  his  mind 
to  it  ...  he  is  looking  for  some  private  pupils." 

242 


PROFESSORSHIP 

the  Ecole  :  they  are  going  to  turn  it  into  a  Latin  verse 
factory.  Here  it  is  the  same  thing ;  the  compressing 
machine  is  working  everywhere.  I  have  one  consolation 
here,  Saigey  (Polytechnique,  formerly  Bourbon),  a  mind 
open  to  everything,  the  contrary  of  a  bourgeois.  That  is 
the  word,  and  our  Philosophy  is  a  Romantic  of  1828,  strug- 
gling against  La  Harpe  and  Delille.  I  also  have  Hegel's 
History  of  Religions  ;  I  go  in  for  Historical  Psychology. 
It  takes  us  out  of  Garnier's  bogs ;  have  you  read  his  book  ?  * 
I  am  told  it  is  a  copy  of  the  Scotsmen,  with  an  infinitesimal 
division  of  the  faculties. 

I  have  half  a  mind  to  go  to  M.  Le  Clerc  and  to  say  to  him : 
"  Sir,  kindly  give  me  a  subject  and  some  conclusions  for 
my  thesis ! "  Will  they  accept  something  aesthetical, 
a  theory  of  styles,  a  study  on  La  Fontaine  ?  etc.  .  .  . 

My  Rector  is  sending  up  a  report  concerning  us.  I  have 
obtained  a  testimony  to  my  habits  and  morals,  political 
and  otherwise  ;  he  added  a  note  of  what  we  ask.  I  have 
asked  to  be  sent  to  a  town  where  there  is  a  Faculty  of 
Science.  I  should  of  course  waive  that  desire  if  I  had  a 
chance  of  being  sent  to  the  same  town  as  you.  If  you  sec 
the  potentates,  try,  and  choose  for  me  if  M.  Lesieur  offers 
you  something. 

I  have  learnt  many  things  about  life  during  the  past 
year  !  And  you  too,  have  you  not  ? 

Thanks  again  so  much,  my  dear  good  fellow. 

1  Treatise  on  The  Faculties  of  the  Soul,  published  in  1852. 


243 


LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF  H.  TAINE 


To  Mademoiselle  Virginie  Taine. 

July  20,  1852. 

Bad  news  on  my  side.  My  thesis  is  not  yet  definitely 
refused,  but  it  is  very  nearly  so  ;  the  work,  style,  etc., 
are  praised,  but  the  ideas  being  new,  and,  the  regulations 
requiring  new  ideas,  my  thesis  is  not  admissible.  I  have 
been  silly  enough  to  take  literally  the  official  proclamations, 
the  posters  on  the  door  !  All  that  is  bait  for  fools,  and 
the  true  regulations  for  the  Doctorate  are  these:  to  write 
200  meaningless  pages  ;  to  analyse  some  old  forgotten 
author  who  is  deservedly  so  ;  to  judge  of  him  in  accordance 
with  recognized  ideas,  and  to  copy  the  manual  of  one  of 
those  gentlemen.  But  it  is  the  same  thing  everywhere, 
all  things  have  a  false  face ;  as  I  live,  I  learn  to  live ;  people 
shout  at  the  top  of  their  voices  that  honesty  is  necessary, 
in  private  they  joke  about  it,  and  the  honest  man  is  he 
who  puts  on  a  neat  tie  and  thieves  in  secret.  People  ask 
loudly  for  ideas  and  discoveries  ;  what  they  really  want 
is  imitation,  second-hand,  commonplace.  I  understand 
now  why  nearly  all  the  masters  we  met  seemed  to  us  so 
insignificant ;  they  were  so,  and  that  was  why  they  had 
succeeded.  A  struggle  necessarily  ensues,  youths  despise 
their  masters,  and  the  old  ones  pocket  money  and  contempt. 

This  is  not  a  rejected  author's  anger  !  All  those  who 
are  worth  anything  are  now  in  the  mud.  Poor  M.  Vache- 
rot  has  lost  his  salary,  and  is  looking  for  private  lessons. 
The  Ecole  is  an  Inquisition.  M.  Simon  earns  his  living 
by  working  for  Hachette,  and  giving  lessons  to  the  son  of 
M.  Goudchaux.  The  others  are  starving.  Happy  are 

244 


PROFESSORSHIP 

those  who,  like  myself,  can  live.  He  writes  to  me,1  that 
his  friend,  M.  Caro  (a  good  Catholic,  a  professor  at  Rennes), 
has  also  just  been  refused  by  the  Faculty.  His  thesis 
had  cost  him  eighteen  months'  work,  and  good  judges 
declare  it  to  be  excellent.  M.  de  Suckau,  who  was  about 
to  send  his,  is  pocketing  it  again,  hoping  for  better  times. 

There  is  no  chance  of  staying  here  next  year.  The 
Professor  will  come  back  to  his  post,  and  I  shall  be  sent 
where  God  pleases.  The  Rector  has  promised  to  give  the 
Government  on  my  behalf  a  certificate  of  good  morals,  poli- 
tical and  otherwise. 

I  shall  try  to  leave  here  on  the  15th  ;  I  shall  have 
nothing  to  do  in  Paris  but  a  few  business  calls,  and  to  see 
my  friends.  It  will  be  necessary  to  do  so  in  order  to  inform 
myself  of  what  is  going  on  in  the  University  ;  here  it  is 
a  bog,  and  the  newspapers  are  as  dumb  as  fishes.  My 
life  is  not  very  pleasant ;  a  lot  of  scamps  whom  I  have  to 
punish  and  whose  papers  make  me  sick  ;  complete  solitude, 
save  for  a  few  conversations  with  an  old  Bourbon  school- 
fellow. My  pleasures  consist  in  dreaming  in  my  arm-chair 
or  in  walking  out  at  four  in  the  morning  by  a  little  river 
by  the  meadows,  looking  at  the  light  on  the  grass  and  on 
the  water.  A  poor  sort  of  happiness  !  yet  we  are  infinitely 

1  Letter  from  Jules  Simon  to  H.  Taine,  July  16,  1852 :  "  They 
have  just  refused  Garo's  thesis,  after  eighteen  months'  labour  on  his 
part.  I  may  say  that  the  Faculty  has  lately  admitted  several 
Doctors  whose  theses  did  not  come  near  that  one — I  have  read  it. 
You  are  beginning  to  learn  that  reputation,  success,  and  talent 
are  three  things  with  absolutely  no  natural  connection  between 
them.  I  seriously  look  upon  talent  and  a  noble  character  as  upon 
two  almost  insurmountable  obstacles  ;  and  that  is  why,  my  dear 
boy,  one  should  be  an  honest  man  and  try  not  to  be  a  fool" 

245 


LIFE   AND   LETTERS   OF  H.   TAINE 

happier  than  those  poor  beasts  of  burden  whom  we  call 
workmen  or  labourers,  cobblers  and  greengrocers !  and 
that  is  consoling.  It  is  inaccurate  to  say  that  women  are 
more  bored  than  men  because  they  have  no  regular  work  ; 
professional  work  is  as  monotonous  as  housekeeping,  and 
a  greater  servitude.  It  is  impossible  to  imagine  the  disgust 
I  experience  when  correcting  those  papers  ;  add  to  that 
the  sheet  of  ice  which  life  in  the  provinces  lays  on  one's 
shoulders.  I  only  keep  afloat  and  work  by  dint  of  sheer 
strength  of  will. 

Everything  is  in  the  future  ;  I  have  an  idea  for  a  work 
which  I  have  begun,  which  will  last  ten  years,  and  which 
I  believe  to  be  great  and  new.  Will  it  be  read  ?  Will  it 
deserve  to  be  ?  I  am  a  chrysalis,  and  I  will  play  pitch 
and  toss  for  my  butterfly's  wings  when  I  have  spun  them 
in  silence  in  my  study. 


To  M.  Leon  Crousle. 

July  27,  1852. 

MY  DEAR  CROUSL&, — I  shall  probably  be  in  Paris  on 
August  18  or  19.  I  suppose  you  will  still  be  at  the  Ecole  ? 
I  shall  stay  four  or  five  days  and  come  and  shake  hands 
with  you. 

You  have  no  doubt  heard  of  my  second  discomfiture. 
Suckau  says  that  no  definite  decision  has  been  come  to  ; 
but  it  is  all  over.  They  think  my  conclusions  scandalous, 
and  your  dear  second-year  Professor  says  that  "  there  is 
no  good  sense  in  presenting  to  the  Faculty  opinions  which 
it  does  not  profess."  A  good  thing  to  know  !  When  I 
get  to  Paris,  I  shall  go  to  the  Dean  and  propose  to  him  a 

246 


PROFESSORSHIP 

Literature  thesis  (on  La  Fontaine1  as  a  fabulist ;  I  studied 
it  for  the  agregation},  ask  him  for  his  conclusions,  etc.  .  .  . 
I  am  quite  resigned  and  even  indifferent.  The  important 
thing  for  me  is  to  live  for  ten  years,  giving  up  two  hours 
a  day  to  some  work  or  other,  in  some  town  or  other.  Be- 
tween a  licencie  or  a  Doctor  ;  in  a  first  or  third-class  lycee 
the  difference  is  nil.  For  us,  the  University  is  no  longer 
a  career,  but  a  means  of  living  to  be  preserved  solely  for 
that  reason  ;  my  only  bother  is  to  be  obliged  to  lose  a  few 
more  months  in  those  ridiculous  examinations.  All  I 
should  wish  would  be  to  have  some  free  time  so  as  to 
worship  my  gods  quietly.  They  have  lost  their  vague 

1  The  notebook  on  La  Fontaine,  filled  at  the  beginning  of  the 
year  with  a  view  to  the  agregation,  contains  notes  on  fables  by 
Babrius,  ^Esop,  Phaedrus,  La  Fontaine,  Leasing  ;  on  Phsedrus  and 
La  Fontaine ;  on  the  difference  of  style  betweed  J5sop  and  La 
Fontaine ;  on  principal  points  to  be  noted  in  La  Fontaine ; 
action  and  composition  in  La  Fontaine  ;  lastly,  a  plan  and  a  Resume 
LUteraire.  Here  is  the  plan  : 

"  Of  Fable  in  general,  taken  in  the  abstract.  Enumerate  and 
define  its  parts,  and  examine  in  each  what  corresponds  to  it  in 
La  Fontaine. 

"  1,  Of  the  primitive  element  of  Fable  ;  animals  and  an  allegory. 
Gnomic,  moral,  and  scientific  primitive  character,  changed  by  La 
Fontaine  into  a  poetical  one  (opposition  of  the  Scientific  and  the 
Poetic,  of  the  formula  and  the  drama)."  The  rest  of  the  work  is 
a  demonstration  of  the  word  poetic. 

"  2,  Conditions  of  a  Poetic  Fable  :   General  theory  of  Poetry  : 

(a)  Characters  and  Morals. 

(b)  Action  and  Composition. 

(c)  Style  (compare  with   Phaedrus,    .K>»|>,  and   the  Middle 


(d)  Character  of  the  Poet. 

(e)  Description  of  the  particular  Character  of  the  Poet,  of 

his  morals  ;  anti-religious,  anti-aristocratic,  etc.,  mali- 
cious, Greek,  Gaulois,  etc.,  etc. 
247 


LIFE   AND   LETTERS   OF   H.    TAINE 

and  universal  form,  and  have  now  become  condensed  in 
a  work  which  will  last  for  several  years,  and  about  which 
I  will  tell  you  when  we  meet.  I  am  a  good  mother  hen, 
and  I  will  patiently  sit  on  my  egg  ;  it  seems  to  me  that 
I  can  already  hear  the  chick  knocking  at  the  shell  with 
its  beak. 

Latonce  taciturn  pertentant  gaudia  pectus.  It  seems  to 
me,  my  poor  friend,  that  you  are  not  particularly  happy 
at  the  Ecole  and  that  Governmental  Bumbledom  is  whip- 
ping you  with  pickled  rods.  Are  you  still  under  arrest  ? 
You  know,  their  reasoning  is  sound  at  bottom,  and  the 
studies  and  spirit  of  the  old  school  were  absolutely  contrary 
to  their  University.  You  will  have  been  the  last  of  the 
Romans.  We  are  governed  by  Rectors  and  Provisors 
who  all  have  lived  in  the  provinces  for  twenty  years,  and 
been  Professors  for  ten  years.  You  cannot  imagine,  old 
fellow,  what  the  provinces  and  a  Professor's  life  make  of 
a  man.  To  lose  all  brightness,  all  delicacy,  all  boldness 
of  mind,  speak  of  literature  and  science  as  a  rolling-mill 
might  of  iron  or  a  reel  might  of  cotton,  to  substitute  by 
some  insensible  crystallization  a  grocer's  soul  to  an  artist's 
soul,  to  be  nothing  but  a  licensed  seller  of  instruction  and 
taste,  to  exhale  that  stale  and  mouldy  smell  which  is  the 
worst  of  all — those  are  the  least  of  our  symptoms.  My 
colleagues  appal  me  and  I  feel  like  that  drunkard,  who, 
when  he  saw  another  asleep  against  a  milestone,  said  in 
a  melancholy  tone,  "  And  that  is  what  I  shall  be  like  on 
Monday  !  "  Those  who  have  just  left  the  Ecole  chafe 
and  jib  against  the  heavy  hands  which  try  to  curb  them 
to  the  regulation  trot ;  they  struggle  against  the  choking 
moral  surroundings  in  which  they  are  drowning.  That 

248 


PROFESSORSHIP 

is  why  the  Ecole  is  a  bad  institution,  and  must  necessarily 
be  suppressed  or  stupefied. 

I  have  become  quite  Universitarian,  I  hope  ;  I  have 
learnt  to  my  cost  what  life  is  ;  the  Rector  has  promised 
me  a  favourable  report  on  my  behaviour  ;  I  repeat  to 
myself  every  day  that  those  who  die  at  Surat  must  hold 
a  cow's  tail  in  hand.  One  more  lesson  in  my  neighbour- 
hood :  Treille,  who  had  gone  up  with  me  to  the  ficole, 
and  who  was  Professor  of  Rhetoric  at  Loudun,  has  just 
been  suspended  for  a  newspaper  article  in  which  he  praised 
a  local  actress.  A  professor  must  be  like  a  priest  nowadays  i 

You  have  no  more  lectures,  you  lucky  fellows  !  You  read 
and  chat,  I  scarcely  read  and  never  chat  now.  But  we 
will  do  so  next  month,  will  we  not  ? 

I  should  like  to  have  M.  Magy's  address.  Edouard  tells 
me  that  he  is  in  Belgium.  I  owe  him  a  letter,  and  if  you 
know  anything  about  him,  I  shall  be  pleased  to  have  news 
of  him. 

To  his  Mother. 

July   27,  1852. 

I  shall  leave  here  about  the  18th,  and  shall  probably 
remain  four  or  five  days  in  Paris  to  pay  calls,  see  friends, 
and  consult  the  Faculty  on  a  new  subject  for  a  thesis.  (A 
literary  thesis  on  La  Fontaine's  fables.)  I  shall  ask  them 
for  their  conclusions,  obtain  for  my  ideas  a  preliminary 
certificate  of  insipidity  and  innocuity ;  I  shall  cast  off  all 
those  they  do  not  admit,  and,  if  I  have  enough  left,  I  shall 
try  my  fortune  once  again  ;  a  little  work  during  the  holi- 
days, and  the  thing  will  be  done  about  the  middle  of  next 
year. 

249 


LIFE   AND   LETTERS   OF   H.   TAINE 

Quite  seriously,  I  am  perfectly  calm,  and  no  longer 
troubling  about  my  second  discomfiture.  The  harm  is 
not  very  great,  my  work  remains,  and  it  is  so  much  done 
for  the  big  book  I  want  to  write.  Only  it  is  a  bother  to 
have  to  waste  several  months  in  writing  out  literary 
commonplaces  and  ineptitudes  for  the  agregation.  I  repeat 
what  I  have  said  a  hundred  times ;  the  University  is  no 
longer  a  future  for  us.  It  is  a  tent  inside  which  I  am 
taking  shelter  from  the  rain  for  a  few  years,  in  order  to 
think  in  peace  without  getting  wet  or  frozen.  It  is  not 
a  pretty  tent,  but  it  is  sufficient  for  my  purpose,  and  I  shall 
try  during  that  time  to  weave  for  myself  a  substantial 
cloak  which  will  allow  me  to  resist  the  bad  weather. 

To  Prevost-Paradol. 

August  1,  1852. 

MY  DEAR  PRKVOST, — You  are  goodness  itself.  Unfor- 
tunately you  are  a  friend  of  the  author  and  of  the  heresy 
he  sets  forth,  so  that  I  must  discount  two-thirds  of  your 
praises.  Still  what  remains  is  nice  enough  to  console  me 
if  I  wanted  to  be  consoled.  But  it  is  all  healed,  old  fellow  ; 
better  still,  I  have  the  materials  and  the  complete  plan  of 
a  second  memoir  (on  Cognition)  which  I  shall  write  after 
the  holidays,  and  which  is  better  than  the  first. 

You  will  see  in  it,  amongst  other  things,  the  proof  that 
the  intelligence  can  have  no  other  object  than  the  extended, 
feeling,  ego,  and  that  it  is  as  inseparable  from  it  as  vital 
force  from  matter,  etc.  Also  a  theory  on  the  unique  faculty 
(that  of  Abstraction)  which  distinguishes  man  from  the 
animals  and  which  is  the  causation  of  Religion,  Society, 
Art  and  Language  ;  finally  the  principles  of  a  Philosophy 

250 


PROFESSORSHIP 

of  History.  I  even  want,  if  your  ears  are  patient,  to  tell 
you  the  plan  of  a  great  scientific  edifice  of  which  all  this 
is  the  beginning  and  which  will  keep  me  occupied  during 
the  next  five  or  six  years.  Since  I  sent  up  my  thesis 
I  have  read  almost  all  Hegel's  writings  on  the  Philosophy 
of  Man. 

Are  you  reassured  ?  Does  this  look  like  being  dis- 
couraged ?  l  The  machine  is  wound  up,  old  fellow,  and 
it  will  work  until  the  end,  whatever  happens. 

My  troubles  come  from  other  things.  First,  this  pro- 
fession, provincial  life,  little  pin-pricks,  my  pupils'  stupidity, 
etc.  .  .  .  The  one  consolation  is  that  it  takes  but  two 
hours  a  day.  Add  the  certitude  of  being  and  remaining 
small,  a  slave  driven  by  the  Universitarian  Muphtis. 

"Who  in  his  life  has  not  a  grain  of  ambition?"  The 
little  grain,  though  crushed,  continues  to  germinate,  and 
very  much  philosophy  is  required  to  accustom  oneself  to 
spend  one's  life  at  Poitiers  or  at  Draguignan  amongst 
vexations  and  in  solitude. 

As  to  a  future  in  the  University,  I  have  none  ;  I  know 
but  one  means  of  having  one,  which  is  to  find  a  Madonna 
who  will  nod  to  me,  and  to  make  a  public  Communion. 
Unfortunately,  the  Madonna  has  yet  to  be  found.  My 
worldly  future  is  equally  blank.  Your  beautiful  style 
will  be  read  ;  but  who  is  there  that  cares  about  philosophy  ? 
And  amongst  those  who  cast  their  eyes  in  that  direction, 
how  many  are  there  who  do  not  make  of  it  a  political 

1  Greard,  p.  197 :  "  I  should  not  speak  to  you  so  much  about 
yourself  if  I  had  not  had  bad  news  of  the  state  of  your  mind.  That 
mind  of  yours  belongs  to  us  all,  remember,  and  you  must  keep  it 
sharp  and  shining;  it  is  our  best  sword." 

251 


LIFE   AND   LETTERS   OF   H.   TAINE 

weapon  ?  I  may  find  in  France  six  cellar  rats  like  myself 
and  four  inquisitive  men  like  yourself  who  will  read  my 
writings ;  and  if  I  do  write,  it  is  for  the  pleasure  of  seeing 
my  ideas  neatly  strung  together,  and  of  looking  at  myself 
in  the  glass  with  my  new  necklace  on. 

One  has  to  suppress  within  oneself  a  mass  of  desires, 
as  you  know  ;  and  it  is  not  to  be  done  in  a  day. 

As  to  my  thesis,  my  dear  fellow,  I  was  misled  by  three 
things  :  the  regulations  for  the  Doctor's  degrees,  which 
does  not  hold  the  Faculty  responsible  for  theses  ;  M. 
Hatzf eld's  thesis,1  in  which  he  boldly  supported  theocratic 
opinions  ;  finally  an  author's  intoxication.  My  syllogisms 
appeared  to  me  in  a  dazzling  light,  and  I  thought  that 
whilst  rejecting  the  doctrines  they  would  accept  the  whole 
as  a  consistent  hypothesis.  I  think  (what  say  you  ?)  that 
I  shall  propose  to  M.  Le  Clerc  a  thesis  on  La  Fontaine's 
fables,  I  studied  the  subject  for  the  agregation,  and  it  seems 
to  me  that  one  could  find  therein  a  good  deal  to  say  that 
is  new  (i.e.  compare  him  to  other  fabulists  who  only  try 
to  prove  a  maxim  ;  the  fable  magnified  into  a  heroic  drama, 
a  study  of  character ;  the  character  of  the  king,  of  the 
courtiers,  etc. ;  oppose  La  Fontaine's  genius,  a  Greek  and 
Flemish  one,  to  that  of  his  time). 

We  can  think  together  of  something  for  the  Latin  thesis. 
I  intend  to  be  in  Paris  on  the  17th  and  18th,  to  stay  there 
for  five  or  six  days,  and  to  return  again  on  October  1 
with  my  mother.  We  shall  have  time  to  meet. 

But  why  do  you  only  talk  to  me  of  myself  instead  of 
telling  me  about  your  work  ?  How  far  have  you  got  ? 
Well,  anyhow,  we  shall  have  a  talk. 

1  On  Plato.: 
252 


PROFESSORSHIP 

As  to  my  work,  old  fellow,  do  correct  whatever  you 
dislike,  without  waiting  for  my  opinion.  You  are  quite 
right  about  exteriorizing,  dupery,  etc.  .  .  .  but  it  would  be 
a  miracle  if  one's  language  did  not  become  barbarous  from 
reading  Hegel  and  the  physiologists.  Correct  me,  by  all 
means.  You  made  me  laugh  by  speaking  of  the  poetry 
of  page  122  (I  don't  know  which  it  is).  But  my  ideal  model 
was  the  Civil  Code,  and  it  would  be  funny  to  consider 
M.  Portalis  and  the  other  editors  as  poets.  By  the  bye, 
you  saw  that  ignominy  of  the  competition,  that  matter 
for  French  oration  ? 

At  present  I  am  rather  languishing,  reading  my  Germans 
in  a  desultory  way,  and  correcting  the  competition  papers 
with  my  colleagues.  Parents  here  would  cut  each  other's 
throats  if  there  were  reason  to  suppose  the  least  favour 
or  the  least  error  in  correcting.  So  we  are  gathered,  three 
together,  under  the  direction  of  the  Provisor  or  the  Rector  ; 
things  are  managed  as  at  the  Concours.  I  believe  the 
Rector  is  sending  a  good  account  of  me.  I  have  not  given 
a  single  subject  of  essays  outside  the  seventeenth  century 
or  Antiquity,  and  I  have  not  read  or  allowed  to  be  read 
one  single  book  which  could  give  rise  to  the  least  objection. 

Here  is  an  example  of  the  tolerance  of  this  neighbour- 
hood :  Hemardinquer,  who  was  Rhetoric  assistant,  had  to 
leave  because  he  is  a  Jew  ! 

Beg  Edouard,  if  it  is  not  too  impossible  to  him,  to 
arrange  somehow  that  I  should  see  him  during  the  holidays. 
The  Highlanders  and  Low  Bretons1  will  not  be  more  amus- 
ing than  we  !  Think  of  us  three  together  in  your  room 

1  E.  de  Suckau  was  going  to  Scotland  or  to  Brittany  for  his 
holidays. 

253 


LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF  H.  TAINE 

or  at  the  theatre  !  It  will  be  delightful  and  I  embrace  you 
both  in  imagination. 

I  shall  now  have  all  the  trouble  of  packing — another 
amusement  of  the  nomadic  professor  with  which  you  are 
not  acquainted.  What  is  Crousle  going  to  decide  ? 

M.  Simon  does  not  know  the  extended  ego ;  he  only 
knows  my  conclusions  vaguely.  I  write  to  him  from  time 
to  time.  Do  not  give  him  my  theses.  Keep  them  and 
return  them  to  me  in  a  fortnight's  time. 

Poor  M.  Vacherot  !  he  is  stranded  !  ! 

Love  and  renewed  thanks. 

To  Mademoiselle  Sophie  Taine. 

August  10,  1852. 

I  shall  see  the  world  again  for  an  instant,  and  bring  you 
a  whiff  of  Paris  air.  Most  amusing  comedies  take  place 
in  the  world  :  a  student  of  the  School  of  Athens  started 
digging  a  hole  at  the  foot  of  a  hill,  and  found  two  or  three 
old  cellars,  several  dirty  stones  on  which  three  or  four 
illegible  letters  can  be  traced  with  strong  magnifying 
glasses,  plus  a  fragment  of  rotten  wall.  Immediately 
trumpets,  drums  and  cymbals  sound  ;  the  Journal  de 
V Instruction  Publique,  the  Academic  des  Inscriptions,  the 
Moniteur  praise  to  the  skies  our  young  Hellenist,  the  patient 
investigator  of  old  irons  and  antique  broken  crocks,  and 
the  King  of  Greece  honours  with  some  order  or  other  our 
happy  Universitarian  mole.  The  Chartreuse  de  Par  me 
(Stendhal)  gives  me  the  reason  for  that.  There  is  Science 
and  Science  ;  the  dangerous,  important,  scientific  science 
which  is  sent  to  the  bottom  of  a  well,  transported  to 
Cayenne  or  relegated  to  an  attic  in  the  St.  Jacques  quarter, 

264 


PROFESSORSHIP 

and  the  inoffensive,  virtuous,  licensed  Science,  despised 
in  private  but  lauded  in  public,  and  which  gives  to  princes, 
in  President  Renault's  historical  abstracts,  the  name  of 
Protectors  of  Letters,  etc.  "  Clever  men  agree  between 
themselves  that  they  know  the  Mexican  language  and  can 
teach  it,  and  Ernest  IV.  gives  a  pension  of  1,000  fr.  and 
his  father's  Cross  to  Father  Rari  who  has  restored  seventeen 
verses  of  a  Greek  dithyrambic." 

Our  Ernest  IV.  has  discharged  M.  Vacherot  and  sup- 
pressed his  salary.  Here  is  a  truer  axiom  than  those  of 
geometers  :  The  only  way  to  succeed  in  this  world  is  to  be 
undeserving  of  success.  Fortunately,  one  can  do  without 
that ;  books  and  dead  men  are  wittier  than  the  living, 
one  can  read  and  work  in  one's  room  with  delightful 
happiness,  and  after  that  one  can  go  and  join  you  in  the 
Ardennes. 

My  defunct  thesis  has  been  gathered  in  Paris  by  the 
pious  hands  of  my  friends,  which  friends  have  sent  me  a 
paean  of  praise,  telling  me  that  it  was  a  book,  and  should 
be  printed.  I  shall  abstain  from  doing  so  for  ten  years  ; 
I  shall  first  wait  till  there  are  a  dozen  like  it  on  my  desk, 
the  total  of  which  will  make  a  respectable  volume.  I  have 
some  lead  in  my  pouch,  but  I  shall  not  scatter  it  grain 
by  grain  ;  I  am  amassing  enough  to  make  a  good  bursting 
charge,  which  I  shall  hope  to  explode  in  the  face  of 
official  truth.  Meanwhile 

The  care  of  my   flock  absorb  my  whole  being, 
as  our  grandmothers  used  to  sing; 
And  the  wicked's  infectious  touch  altereth  not  my  innocence. 

What  dirt,  what  meanness  I  have  seen  these  last  two 

255 


LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF  H.  TAINE 

years  !   it  would   be  distressing  if  it  were  not  ridiculous. 
I  laugh  at  it,  therefore,  and  my  sole  care  is  for  Vouziers. 

Sail  away,  0  ship, 
Bearing  my  love  ! 

That  is  what  I  repeat  to  myself.  Is  it  sailing  ?  M.  le 
Professeur,  as  you  see,  has  an  ornamental  stock  of  sacred 
and  lyrical  quotations,  like  a  Pont-Neuf  virtuoso. 

Who  knows  ?  perhaps  my  destiny  will  plant  me  there 
some  day  !  As  the  marble  statue  of  a  President  of  the 
Republic,  or  as  a  blind  man  with  a  clarionet,  a  plate  and 
a  dog  ?  Which  would  be  best  ?  An  honest  man  may 
well  hesitate  nowadays  ! 


256 


PART  IV 
RETURN   TO    PARIS 


257 


CHAPTER  I 

The  Theses  Supported — Appointment  at 
Besancon — M.  Taine  applies  for  Leave — 
Life  in  Paris — Course  of  Lectures  at  M. 
Carre-Demailly's  School — Zoological  and 
Physiological  Studies — Correspondence 

A  FRESH  disappointment  awaited  the  young  Professor 
at  the  close  of  the  summer  of  1852.  He  could  not  remain 
in  Poitiers,  the  Rhetoric  class  being  no  longer  vacant, 
and  he  had  asked  to  be  transferred  to  a  town  where  a 
Faculty  of  Sciences  was  to  be  found,  in  order  to  continue 
his  studies  in  Physiology.  He  desired  to  remain  a  Pro- 
fessor of  Letters,  but  he  had  hoped  for  a  post  at  least  the 
equivalent  of  his  assistantship  at  Poitiers.  The  Minister's 
answer  was  an  appointment  to  a  sixit-me  Prof essorship  at  the 
Besangon  lycee.  His  services  were  evidently  not  wanted. 
He  therefore  immediately  adopted  the  plan  of  life  which 
he  had  thought  of  on  the  morrow  of  the  Coup  d'Etat ;  he 
came  to  Paris,  asked  for  a  long  leave,  and  looked  for  some 
private  lessons  to  make  up  the  very  modest  budget  which 
was  indispensable  to  his  wants.  He  wished  to  part  with 
his  freedom  as  little  as  possible,  and  to  reserve  some  time 

259 


LIFE   AND   LETTERS   OF   H.    TAINE 

to  write  his  new  theses,  and  to  attend  lectures  at  the 
School  of  Medicine.  He  therefore  organized  his  life  in 
the  simplest  manner  and  settled  down  in  a  tiny  hotel  in 
the  Rue  Servandonl. 

He  had  definitely  settled  on  La  Fontaine's  Fables  for 
the  subject  of  his  thesis  ;  he  merely  looked  upon  this  last 
University  competition  as  upon  a  tiresome  task  and  pro- 
vision for  his  future.  All  his  thoughts  and  efforts  were 
absorbed  by  the  treatise  on  Cognition  which  he  had  begun 
to  write.  The  work  on  La  Fontaine  was  practically  done, 
he  had  got  together  the  elements  of  it  whilst  preparing  for 
the  Literature,  agregation,  and  his  studies  for  the  Philosophy 
agregation  also  provided  him  with  materials  for  his  Latin 
thesis  :  De  personis  Platonids. 

It  was  not  without  regret  that  he  renounced  official 
Professorship ;  he  liked  imparting  his  ideas  and  explaining 
his  methods  to  young  minds.  He  was  therefore  pleased 
at  being  offered  a  regular  Lecturership  at  the  Carre-Demailly 
private  school.  There  he  had  the  great  joy  of  numbering 
among  his  pupils  the  eminent  man  who  later  on  became 
his  dearest  and  most  intimate  friend,  M.  Smile  Boutmy.1 
He  was  also  giving  a  few  private  lessons,  and  succeeded, 
as  he  had  wished  to  do,  in  buying  time  and  freedom  of 
thought  at  the  cost  of  two  hours'  work  every  day. 

He  gave  a  great  part  of  his  time  to  scientific  studies  ; 
he  attended  at  the  Sorbonne  M.  Fano's  Physiology  lectures, 
and  at  the  Museum  M.  de  Jussieu's  Botany  lectures  and 

1  M.  Boutmy  was  not  a  regular  pupil  of  the  Carre-Demailly 
school,  but  had  been  attracted  by  the  nascent  reputation  of  the 
young  lecturer,  as  also  another  very  distinguished  student,  M. 
Deville,  who  died  prematurely  in  1867. 

260 


RETURN  TO  PARIS 

M.    Isidore    Geoffrey   St.  Hilaire's   course    of   Zoological 
lectures. 

He  also  attended  classes  on  Anatomy  and  Physiology  at 
the  School  of  Medicine,  and  assiduously  frequented  the  Sal- 
petriere  Clinic,  the  Physician  in  Chief  being  Dr.  Baillarger, 
who  was  a  relation  of  his.  These  studies  were  continued 
for  several  years  ;  they  formed  a  solid  foundation  for  his 
psychological  works,  and  may  be  considered  as  the  starting 
point  of  the  philosophical  evolution  which,  in  1867-9,  re- 
sulted in  his  Theory  of  the  Intelligence. 

To  Edouard  de  Suckau. 

October  15,  1852. 

I  saw  M.  de  Suckau  two  days  after  my  latest  mishap1 
and  I  thought  he  would  keep  you  informed.  That  is  why 
I  did  not  answer  you  sooner.  I  have  obtained  leave,  and 
I  have  just  been  round  my  whole  circle  of  acquaintances 
trying  to  find  some  private  teaching.  I  have  found 
nothing  yet,  and  I  am  waiting,  rather  hopelessly,  wondering 
whether  I  did  well  to  give  way  to  an  impulse  of  wounded 
pride  and  to  the  advice  of  all  my  friends.  Necessity  is 
a  hard  mistress,  and,  when  it  is  a  question  of  earning  one's 
bread,  it  is  ridiculous  to  heed  pin-pricks  in  one's  vanity. 
I  was  too  happy  at  Bourbon  and  at  the  Ecole ;  I  ought  to 
have  remembered  that  I  am  nothing,  that  I  have  a  right 
to  nothing,  that  it  is  doing  me  a  favour  to  employ  me,  that 
it  is  a  blessing  to  live  at  the  price  of  twenty-five  hours  a 
week,  and  that,  if  it  is  a  mean  thing  to  teach  sixieme  little 
boys,  it  is  meaner  still  to  sweep  crossings  or  to  cobble  shoes. 

1  The  Besan9ou  appointment. 
261 


LIFE    AND   LETTERS   OF   H.   TAINE 

I  shall  know  in  two  months'  time  whether  I  did  well.  I 
will  first  write  out  my  work  on  Cognition,  then  do  my 
theses,  and  at  the  same  time  attend  some  Anatomy  lectures. 
The  will  is  not  lacking,  I  do  not  think  I  shall  ever  find  it  so. 
but  perhaps  a  spring  is  broken  in  my  moral  machine — 
the  spring  of  Hope.  I  am  beginning  to  see  Life  as  it  is, 
old  fellow,  and  to  understand  what  it  costs  to  introduce 
oneself  into  the  world  or  to  introduce  an  idea  into  it ;  I 
judge  of  the  second  by  the  first ;  and  my  reflections  are 
destroying  in  me  the  militant  ego.  I  only  look  upon  study 
now  as  a  sort  of  opium,  useful  in  dressing  the  wounds  of 
pride,  killing  ennui  and  exhausting  the  superabundant 
activity  of  the  brain.  I  shall  take  more  of  the  drug  than 
ever,  for  I  want  it.  I  live  in  a  world  of  sad  reflections 
when  I  do  not  live  in  a  world  of  serious  thoughts  ;  I  need 
to  gather  round  me  a  cloud  of  abstract  ideas  to  veil  from 
my  sight  my  own  smallness  and  insignificance. 

Greard  has  a  seconde  Professorship  at  Metz  ;  he  deserved 
it,  for  he  was  first  on  the  list  at  the  leaving  examinations. 
Poor  Dupre  is  only  troisicme  class  assistant  in  a  Communal 
College  and  very  distressed.  Prevost  works  in  the  morning, 
runs  about  in  the  afternoon,  and  aspires  to  become  a  libra- 
rian somewhere  or  other. 

M.  Vacherot  has  two  pupils  boarding  at  his  house. 

I  am  going  to  stay  at  the  Hotel  Servandoni,  Rue  Servan- 
doni,  until  my  lessons — if  I  find  any — call  me  elsewhere. 
I  hope  I  shall  see  you  often  now  that  you  are  only  six 
hours  from  Paris.1 

Good-bye,  my  dear  old  chum  ;    though  half  drowned, 

1  E.  de  Suckau  had  just  been  appointed  Professor  of  Philosophy 
at  the  Bourges  lycee. 

262 


RETURN   TO  PARIS 

I  am  glad  to  see  my  friends  afloat,  and  I  wish  them  a  fair 
wind  and  a  calm  sea. 

To  the  same. 

November  28,  1852. 

MY  DEAR  ED., — I  have  a  cold  and  I  cannot  light  my 
fire.  And,  crushed  under  those  two  misfortunes,  my  great 
soul  knoweth  not  what  to  say  to  you.  Never  mind,  I  will 
write  anything  that  comes  into  my  head.  I  will  read  your 
letter  over  to  return  to  the  consciousness  of  the  sublunary 
world. 

To  begin  with,  old  fellow,  I  conclude  from  your  recital 
that  I  did  well  in  avoiding  Besan9on.  If  you,  illustrious 
Professor  of  Logic,  experience  such  disgust,  what  would 
it  have  been  for  me,  a  humble  sixieme  house  dog  ?  I 
bristle  with  horror  at  the  thought  of  ten  classes  a  week, 
amongst  ten  grumbling,  grunting,  stamping  children.  I 
was  not  born  a  tamer  of  wild  beasts,  and,  with  the  Lord's 
permission,  I  never  shall  be  one. 

But  the  life  I  have  adopted  instead  is  not  worth  much. 
I  have  six  lessons  a  week,  total  33  fr.,  just  enough  to  live — 
if  it  lasts — when  added  to  my  poor  resources  ; l  and  every- 
thing is  dearer  in  Paris.  And  one  must  dress,  and  go  out 
after  pupils  ;  a  lot  of  time  is  wasted  and  very  little  money 
earned. 

There  is  a  lot  of  going  out  for  nothing  in  Paris,  and  a 
country  town  gives  one  more  chance  of  quiet  thought ; 
if  only  I  could  have  had  a  troisp-me  class  in  Bourges  I 
would  have  taken  it  with  great  pleasure.  Do  not  come 
down  from  your  perch  ;  every  year  will  make  you  go  up 

1  M.  Tainc  had  about  1,200  fr.  a  year  as  his  share  of  his  father's 
estates. 

263 


LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF  H.  TAINE 

one  rung.  You  progress  without  moving,  through  the 
sheer  motion  of  things.  There  one  sticks  in  the  same  place, 
and  all  one's  efforts  result  merely  in  keeping  one  from 
starvation. 

I  attend  an  Anatomy  course  and  one  on  Physiology 
at  the  Museum  of  the  School  of  Medicine.  That  popula- 
tion of  students  and  Professors  is  curious  and  their  dissec- 
tions interesting.  Butchers  and  scientists,  what  devotion 
is  theirs  to  Man  and  what  contempt !  On  the  first  day, 
I,  with  my  spiritualistic  education,  was  absolutely  dumb- 
founded. But  I  had  not  a  moment  of  disgust.  Those 
laws,  which  repeat  the  same  organs,  in  the  same  places, 
in  all  bodies,  are  magnificent.  The  muscles  of  a  young 
woman's  back  are  now  being  dissected  before  us.  It  is 
a  terrible  and  grandiose  thought,  that  of  Nature,  the 
eternal  somnambulist.  What  prodigality  in  her  genius, 
and  how  dead  it  all  is  !  Ah,  my  poor  Cartesians  !  ! 

I  profit  by  listening  to  their  methods,  but  it  is  pure 
practice.  There  is  not  a  philosopher  amongst  them  ;  all 
sceptical  sawbones. 

It  will  give  you  an  idea  of  my  rare  leisure  to  hear  that 
I  have  not  yet  had  time  to  read  Esquirol.1  My  friends 
at  the  operating  theatre  tell  me  that  he  is  behind  the  times, 
that  in  fact  nobody  knows  anything  about  the  subject, 
and  that  nowadays  everyone  adjourns  generalities  in  favour 
of  monographs. 

I  have  written  seventy  pages  of  my  La  Fontaine.     I  had 

written  out  a  bit  of  my  Theory  of  the  Intelligence,  but 

fatigue  caused  me  to  put  the  break  on.     My  thesis  is  not 

much  easier.     I  find  it  hard  to  write  in  literary  French, 

1  Probably  the  Treatise  on  Mental  Diseases. 

264 


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I  who  have  lived  for  three  years  amongst  Conclusions  and 
am  withered  up  by  Abstraction,  and  it  terrifiei  me.  It  is 
very  pretty,  though;  I  have  just  made  out  a  gallery  of  the 
men  of  La  Fontaine's  time,  comparing  him  to  La  Bruyere 
and  St.  Simon  ;  it  is  a  pleasure  to  see  so  much  wit  in  a 
painter ;  one  could  write  a  volume  about  him.  And  I 
must  clothe  myself  in  a  literary  skin,  I  must  have  a  diploma 
to  leave  this  miserable  condition  of  a  private  teacher.  When 
I  am  a  Doctor  I  might  compete  for  the  prize  which  the 
Academy  is  offering  for  a  literary  and  historical  criticism 
of  Livy.  But  all  this  is  uncertain ;  what  is  real  is  that  I 
was  feverish  yesterday  and  that  to-day  my  head  aches 
and  my  feet  are  cold. 

My  mother  has  just  returned  from  staying  with  her 
brothers,  and  we  have  vainly  been  looking  for  rooms  for 
her  all  the  week.  I  have  seen  your  father  once  or  twice ; 
he  passionately  desires  that  you  should  stick  to  your 
philosophical  and  Universitarian  niche.  Why,  my  dear 
fellow,  we  all  understand  that  a  profession  vilifies  us  by 
necessitating  toadyism  and  stupefies  us  by  its  monotony. 
But  we  all  must  have  one,  and  the  important  thing  is  that 
it  should  leave  us  some  moments  of  leisure  during  which 
we  can  become  men  again.  Do  you  think  it  is  amusing 
to  correct  exercises  as  I  have  to  do  or  to  analyse  hideous 
books  for  people  who  buy  for  money  the  glory  of  appearing 
to  have  read  them  ? 

I  love  to  see  Paris  in  the  evening,  luminous,  moving, 
infinite  ;  it  gives  food  for  thought  and  I  did  not  have  that 
in  Poitiers.  But  I  miss  the  Boole.  I  have  no  opportu- 
nities of  conversation,  and  we  shall  never  find  again  the 
movement  of  ideas  in  which  we  were  brought  up.  What 

265 


LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF  H.  TAINE 

state  is  it  in  now  ?  Silence  is  compulsory  at  meals,  in 
the  studies,  in  the  sleeping  rooms,  in  the  passages  leading 
to  the  lecture-halls  ;  exercises  are  accumulated  to  prevent 
students  from  having  time  to  read ;  three-quarters  of  the 
literary  books  are  refused.  My  poor  Ed.,  let  us  embrace 
each  other  and  say,  "  Lord  save  us,  for  we  perish  !  " 

To  his  Mother.1 

JUVISY,  December  18, 1852. 

I  have  seen  Madame  About.  About  wants  to  leave 
Athens  and  the  University.  He  is  sick  of  the  shop  and 
thinks  of  going  abroad.  Blows  follow  blows.  The  two 
seconde  professors  at  Bourbon,  who  had  been  there  for 
twenty  years,  have  just  been  suspended.  One  of  them, 
M.  Hubert,  the  simplest  and  best  of  men,  who  spent  his 
life  in  collecting  Latin  poems,  is  penniless  on  the  street, 
with  his  family.  It  appears  that  he  had  risked  a  few 
words  as  to  the  gratuitous  lectures  with  which  professors 
have  been  surcharged. 

My  St.  Louis  pupil  is  going  up  to-morrow  for  his  bacca- 
laureat ;  I  think  he  will  fail.  If  he  takes  more  lessons 
I  shall  soon  hear  of  it ;  if  not  I  shall  again  start  pupil  hunt- 
ing in  Paris.  I  meet  all  sorts  of  people  ;  yesterday,  for 
instance,  M.  Dubois,2  who  stood  on  the  pavement  talking 
to  me  for  three  quarters  of  an  hour,  and  who  was  most 
kind.  I  will  go  and  see  M.  Petitjean.3 

My  French  rough  copy  is  about  finished.     I    will  polish 

1  Mme.  Taine  had  gone  back  to  the  Ardennes  after  a  short  stay 
in  Paris. 

2  Formerly  Director  of  the  Ecole  Normale. 

3  M.  Petitjean  was  brother-in-law  to  M.  Adolphe  Bezanson. 

266 


RETURN   TO   PARIS 

it  and  smarten  it  up  for  its  "  coming  out."  Please  God 
and  the  Faculty  it  may  not  break  its  nose  like  its  elder 
brother.  The  Mignet1  business  has  fallen  through,  M. 
Mignet  had  already  engaged  some  one  else.  Besides,  it 
meant  two  hours  a  day  and  only  sixty-five  francs  a  month. 

My  medical  studies  amuse  me ;  I  like  this  great,  living 
Parisian  world ;  my  health  keeps  good  and  it  is  all  much 
better  than  the  blotting  paper  balls  and  baked  apples  with 
which  my  Besan9on  pupils  would  have  pelted  me. 

Sophie  speaks  of  two  possible  buyers  for  the  house  ; 
think  well  before  deciding  to  come  here ;  my  future  is  too 
uncertain  to  regulate  yours.  At  Juvisy  I  am  most  affec- 
tionately received.2  We  are  just  going  out ;  it  is  a  lovely 
morning ;  if  it  were  not  for  the  cold  I  would  advise  Virginie 
to  draw  winter  landscapes.  The  bare  trees  are  so  graceful 
and  delicate  in  their  form,  and  the  open  horizon  so  charming 
under  the  mist,  that  the  country  is  as  beautiful  as  in  the 
spring. 

To  the  same. 

December  28,  1852. 

A  Happy  New  Year,  dear  Mother.  ...  I  really  do  not 
know  what  to  choose  as  a  good  elder  brother ;  yet,  let 
the  Italian  scholars  deign  to  accept  the  Manzoni  which 
they  seemed  to  wish  for.  They  will  read  it  together.  I 
am  packing  it  with  two  or  three  novels  for  you  to  read 
during  the  long  winter  evenings.  They  are  details  of 

1  There  had  been  some  question  of  his  being  appointed  private 
secretary  to  M.  Mignet. 

2  By  M.  Alexandra  Bezanson  and  his  wife. 

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LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF  H.  TAINE 

habits  and  passions,  in  good  and  simple  style,  a  rare  thing 
which  it  always  is  a  pleasure  to  find. 

I  nearly  had  some  work  from  M.  Augustin  Thierry  ; 
the  affair  is  not  hopeless,  but  postponed.  Libert  and  his 
employer,  M.  Maury,  have  promised  to  help  me  in  that 
direction  if  the  occasion  should  arise  again.  My  future 
Bachelor  came  to  grief  over  a  translation,  as  I  had  foreseen. 
He  will  probably  take  more  lessons  ;  in  any  case,  and  as 
a  precaution,  I  am  looking  for  another  pupil.  I  enjoy  my 
lessons  at  Madame  D.'s.  It  is  a  pleasure  to  read  fine  things 
aloud  and  to  invent  ideas  as  I  am  speaking.  M.  N.,  whom 
I  have  seen,  much  approves  of  my  staying  here  and  working 
for  a  Doctor's  degree  and  for  the  Academy.  "  You  are  in 
Paris,  do  not  leave  it  again  "  ;  that  was  his  phrase,  word 
for  word.  He  is  still  the  man  who  said  to  me  when  I  was 
in  Rhetoric  :  "  You  are  making  the  first  step,  now  aim  at 
a  seat  in  the  Academy."  It  is  all  very  well,  but  it  is  not 
enough  to  wish  in  order  to  get !  Many  wish  for  a  seat  and 
remain  standing  ! 

Do  not  trouble  yourself  in  the  least  on  my  account ; 
I  am  in  good  health  and  not  bored ;  I  am  much  happier 
than  at  Poitiers  and  at  Nevers,  I  do  not  feel  around  me 
any  gossiping  slandering,  interfering  or  surveillance  ;  I 
am  not  surrounded  by  forty  imbeciles  who  rebel  on  the 
strength  of  their  numbers,  and  who  make  their  ignorance 
an  excuse  for  their  idleness.  The  School  of  Medicine  is 
delightful,  its  museum  and  preparations  charm  me,  and, 
when  my  head  aches,  there  is  the  Luxembourg  at  my  very 
door,  which  quite  equals  the  wood  of  Un  An1  or  any  other 
country  spot.  I  have  taken  up  Philosophy  again  a  little, 

1  Near  Vouziers. 
268 


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I  read  books  on  Madness  and  on  Sleep  in  libraries ;  alto- 
gether I  live  with,  a  free  mind  and  without  the  leaden  skull 
cap  which  I  had  to  wear  all  last  year. 

I  have  seen  M.  Guizot  again  ;  his  son  has  promised  to 
come  and  see  me  ;  the  acquaintance  might  ripen  into  a 
friendship.  I  wish  it  may,  less  because  he  is  his  father's 
son  than  because  he  is  himself.  I  know  him  to  be  capable, 
learned,  and  strong  in  character  and  in  mind. 

There  are  no  events  in  my  peaceful  and  monotonous 
life.  I  have  been  to  the  theatre  twice,  I  heard  Norma  at 
the  Italian  opera.  Mme.  Cruvelli  sings  and  phrases 
admirably,  but  she  has  not  the  same  purity  and  grandeur 
in  her  voice  as  Madame  Alboni,  whom  Virginie  heard.  The 
little  Metzu1  was  very  pretty,  and  I  should  be  happy  to 
have  Rembrandt's  Christ.  It  is  a  Christ  for  the  poor, 
for  wretches  cowering  in  their  dens,  ugly  and  dirty  like 
them,  but  full  of  an  infinite  sorrow  and  tenderness. 

To  Mademoiselle  Virginie  Taine. 

January  14,  1853. 

MY  DEAR  GIRL, — The  life  one  leads  here  makes  letters 
rare  ;  forgive  me  and  do  not  be  anxious  if  I  miss  the  proper 
day. 

I  have  some  teaching  to  do  close  by,  an  hour  and  a  half, 
five  days  a  week,  at  100  fr.  a  month.  It  is  a  private  house 
where  there  are  four  boarders  ;  M.  Libert  also  teaches 
there ;  I  am  manufacturing  a  Bachelor,  etc.  ...  A 
former  Professor  is  going  to  open  a  hot-house  for  the  bacca- 
laureat  near  the  School  of  Medicine  next  month  ;  he  offers 

1  Copied  by  Mile.  Virginie  Taine. 
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LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF  H.  TAINE 

me  100  fr.  a  month  for  a  class  on  Logic  and  Composition. 
Finally,  M.  Polonceau,  who  will  perhaps  place  his  son  in 
the  school  where  I  go,  is  asking  me  to  give  him  three  lessons 
a  week.  I  shall  be  obliged  to  refuse  work  soon  ;  everything 
is  therefore  for  the  best,  in  the  best  of  worlds.  .  .  .  Are 
you  pleased,  and  do  you  feel  that  you  know  all  about  me  ? 
Imagine  what  a  lot  of  calls  I  have  had  to  pay  !  My  legs 
are  still  aching.  I  never  have  a  moment,  I  am  constantly 
meeting  old  chums,  etc.  ...  I  had  a  long  talk  with  my 
uncle  ;  he  reproaches  us  with  being  unable  to  see  things 
as  practical  people  should,  and  with  not  knowing  how  to 
be  happy.  Perhaps  he  is  right,  but  one  cannot  be  happy 
to  order,  and,  to  be  so,  I  have  to  smother  the  thought  of  self 
in  reading  and  work. 

Would  you  believe  it  ?  The  most  artistically  beautiful 
things  I  see  here  are  the  streets  of  Paris.  Those  long 
streets,  when  the  sun  rises  through  the  bluish  mist  which 
forms  their  horizon,  are  of  an  extraordinary  beauty.  I 
understand  the  poetry  of  the  old  Flemish  cities  and  all  the 
light  which  the  Dutch  painters  have  poured  over  their 
markets  and  shops.  Uncle  is  right  when  he  sees  Beauty 
in  everything. 

Only,  in  order  to  feel  it,  one  must  be  in  a  good  temper — 
or  a  painter  like  you. 

To  Mademoiselle  Sophie  Taine. 

January,  1853. 

.  .  .  Never  has  my  time  been  so  full;  I  have  not  a 
moment  to  write  to  my  friends,  and  yet  there  are  no  events 
in  my  life.  My  lessons,  medical  studies,  theses  and  re- 
searches are  going  their  own  little  way,  a  very  quiet  little 

270 


RETURN   TO    PARIS 

way.  Would  it  amuse  you  to  hear  that  my  Bourbon  pupils 
(at  the  Carre-Demailly  boarding-school)  are  writing  French 
verse  for  St.  Charlemagne's  day,  that  I  have  just  seen  the 
arteries  of  the  brain,  and  that  I  have  come  to  the  fiftieth 
page  of  my  Latin  thesis  on  Plato  ?  I  went  the  other  day 
to  see  the  lunatics  at  the  Salpetriere.  M.  Baillarger,  the 
Physician-in-chief,  is  a  relation  of  ours  (through  the  Four- 
nivals).  I  have  called  several  times  on  Madame  Seilliere1 
without  ever  finding  her  alone.  I  dined  there  on  Sunday. 
I  also  dined  on  Tuesday  at  M.  Carre-Dernailly's  with  several 
Bourbon  Professors  ;  he  sounds  my  praises  in  every  key. 

Finally,  latest  news  :  poor  Sarcey  is  not  admitted  to  the 
School  of  Athens.  Everybody  says  that  he  was  one  of  the 
first  at  the  examination.  But  he  was  unlucky  enough, 
whilst  whispering  with  one  of  his  neighbours,  to  allude  to 
a  ridiculous  misadventure  which  had  befallen  one  of  his 
judges.  The  very  man  overheard  him  and  formally 
opposed  his  nomination.  He  is  going  back  to  Chaumont 
in  despair,  not  knowing  what  to  do  with  himself,  on  bad 
terms  with  his  Rector,  and  furious  at  the  number  of  classes 
and  lectures  he  has  to  take.  To  give  you  an  idea  of  the 
state  of  things,  learn  that,  last  term,  the  first  Professor  on 
Physics  at  Bourbon  had  to  give  notes  on  614  students  ! 
They  are  exhausted,  overwhelmed,  disgusted,  and  curse 
the  whole  thing. 

You  can  imagine  that  witl  so  many  occupations  and 
troubles  music  gets  rather  /icglected.  I  do  play  a  little 
every  night,  but  it  is  not  practising.  I  cannot  even  go  to 
the  theatre  ;  however,  I  hope  to  go  to  the  Ste.  Cecile  Hall 
on  Sunday  if  there  is  a  concert.  But  at  bottom  I  am  happy, 

1  A  cousin  of  Mme.  Taine's. 
271 


LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF  H.  TAINE 

much  happier  than  I  was  last  year,  because  my  life  has 
something  to  feed  on  and  I  can  act  freely.  H.M.  the 
Emperor  and  King  is  to  me  exactly  as  if  he  did  not  exist, 
and,  no  longer  having  to  consider  a  Rector  and  provincial 
espionage,  I  am  merry  and  happy. 

The  teaching  I  am  doing  leads  me  to  think  that,  for  your 
History,  you  ought  to  write  some  reports.  For  instance, 
as  you  write  out  your  old  notes.  I  advise  you  to  make  large 
and  very  abbreviated  tables,  with  ciphers,  alphabetical 
letters  and  other  modes  of  classification,  and  to  write  in 
the  principal  dates  and  great  facts.  It  will  make  a  sort 
of  frame  into  which  your  readings  will  arrange  themselves 
and  fix  themselves  in  your  memory.  Do  you  know  Italian 
grammar  now  ?  In  order  to  learn  it  you  might  take  an 
Italian  sentence  which  you  can  understand,  and  as  you 
meet  with  a  noun  or  a  verb  decline  the  one  and  conjugate 
the  other.  It  would  at  the  same  time  bo  good  practice  for 
your  memory  and  for  your  reasoning. 

To  his  Mother  and  Sisters. 

February  9,  1853. 

.  .  .  The  mass  of  occupations  I  have  here  absorbs  me, 
and  I  cannot  talk  with  you  as  much  as  I  should  like.  At 
present  I  am  writing  like  a  cat,  my  hand  is  so  tired  ;  I  have 
copied  out  my  French  thesis  and  it  has  taken  up  half  a 
ream  of  paper.  This  horrid  scribbling  dazzles  me,  and 
my  head  seems  full  of  pages,  letters,  lines,  corrections, 
etc.  .  .  . 

I  have  undertaken  one  more  lesson.  On  the  average 
I  spend  two  hours  a  day  at  this  work,  which  I  do  not  dis- 
like, and  I  earn  200  fr.  a  month  ;  it  is  as  good  as  a  post 

272 


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in  the  provinces.  As  a  matter  of  fact  I  do  not  know  why 
I  give  two  hours  a  day,  one  hour  would  be  enough  for  my 
needs.  There  is  nothing  to  spend  money  on,  a  few  theatres 
and  two  or  three  concerts  do  not  cost  much  ;  in  order  to 
spend  money,  one  would  have  to  go  out  and  spend  time, 
which  I  cannot  afford.  I  shall  be  hoarding  for  no  purpose  ! 
I  should  not  be  happier  with  dinners  at  1.50  fr.  instead 
of  1  fr.  It  is  so  indifferent  to  me  that  I  never  even  thought 
of  it.  The  only  thing  I  desire  is  to  be  rid  of  the  Doctorate 
and  other  Universitarian  nonsense,  to  receive  by  a  decree 
the  cap  and  other  official  garments,  and  to  return  to  Philo- 
sophy and  Medicine  which  I  force  myself  to  neglect  and 
towards  which  my  heart  yearns  with  desire.  Otherwise 
I  have  never  been  so  happy.  Having  no  time  to  reflect 
on  myself,  I  have  no  time  to  indulge  in  the  "  blues,"  or  to 
meditate  on  the  future  or  on  the  past.  I  am  very  active, 
action  and  continual  action  is  what  is  essential  to  happi- 
ness. 

Amongst  my  pupils,  there  is  a  young  lady.  I  make  her 
read  Don  Quixote,  Augustin  Thierry  and  Racine's  letters 
to  his  son.  I  have  commented  for  her  Corneille  and  Racine, 
whom  you  ought  to  study,  and  I  shall  distil  for  her  benefit 
my  thesis  on  La  Fontaine.  Dear  Sophie,  tell  me  also  of 
your  reading  and  study ;  tell  me  whether  you  have  been 
writing  out  the  tables  I  told  you  about. 

My  dear  Ninette,  I  discover  that  I  have  been  a  fool 
during  the  whole  of  my  stay  in  Paris,  I  never  knew  of  the 
Hotel  des  Jeuneurs  ;  there  are  frequent  exhibitions  of 
pictures  for  the  sales.  I  have  seen  the  Duchess  of  Orleans' 
gallery,  and  the  pictures  of  the  Romantic  Revolution, 
Decamps'  Battle  of  the  Cimbri,  Scheffer's  Francesco  da 

273  T 


LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF  H.  TAINE 

Rimini,  Delacroix'  Murder  of  the  Bishop  of  Liege,  etc.  It 
confirms  what  the  Salon  had  already  taught  us.  The 
Moderns  are  not  such  painters  as  the  Ancients,  but  they 
are  greater  poets  in  their  paintings,  more  philosophical, 
more  emotional.  The  Battle  of  the  Cimbri  is  a  hundred 
times  more  terrible  than  that  of  Salvator  (who  was  already 
inclining  towards  Romanticism).  Imagine  an  immense 
plain  stretching  as  far  as  the  eye  can  see,  with  copper  or 
bronze- coloured  clouds  overhanging  it,  immense  rocks 
scattered  here  and  there,  and,  in  the  foreground,  a  sort  of 
gorge  joining  the  river.  A  mass  of  women  and  children 
on  barbaric  chariots  crowd  into  the  gorge  ;  they  throw 
themselves  into  the  river,  with  dishevelled  hair  and  out- 
stretched arms,  separated  from  their  warriors,  who  are 
lying  in  heaps  or  flying  towards  the  background.  In  the 
middle,  and  just  beyond  the  foreground,  the  regular  lines 
of  the  massive  Roman  legions,  pike  in  hand,  in  immense 
numbers.  Marius  is  seen  on  horseback,  with  the  harsh 
and  terrible  features  which  History  ascribes  to  him,  clad 
in  purple,  and  motioning  orders  to  pursue  the  horde  rolling 
into  the  abyss.  There,  far  beyond,  in  the  background, 
a  gigantic  crowd  is  unrolled,  a  whole  nation  crushed  and 
fleeing,  an  obscure  and  monstrous  medley  of  men,  dust  and 
chariots,  hurrying  away  amongst  the  rocks.  A  thick, 
living  mass — engulphed  and  self-destroying,  of  wild  faces 
and  figures,  a  nation  of  northern  wild  beasts,  bleeding  and 
howling — all  this  indistinct,  like  one  body  moving  and  con- 
vulsed by  its  own  inward  force  ;  three  hundred  thousand 
men  in  four  foot  square  of  canvas ;  I  have  never  seen  such  a 
grand  thing.  I  do  not  know  how  I  succeeded  in  seeing  it  at 
all,  there  was  such  a  crush  before  it.  The  next  day,  having 

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gone  to  see  if  not  His  Majesty's  wedding,  at  least  the 
Cathedral,  I  found  a  queue  about  three-quarters  of  a  league 
long :  it  was  one  o'clock,  and  I  was  told  that  I  might  per- 
haps get  in  about  five  o'clock,  and  that  the  doors  closed 
at  five ;  I  put  my  hands  in  my  pockets  and  returned  to  the 
Rue  des  Jeuneurs. 

Do  take  in  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin  periodically  !  I  have 
read  about  twenty  pages  of  it,  and  from  what  I  have  heard 
I  am  sure  you  will  enjoy  it,  my  mother  especially. 

To  the  same. 

February  19,  1853. 

I  have  finished  my  thesis ;  M.  Petitjean  will  speak  to 
M.  St.  Marc  Girardin  who,  I  hope,  will  be  my  Examiner. 

I  have  been  to  see  a  surgical  operation.  The  rest  is  as 
usual,  the  pot  is  still  boiling  gently  and  with  very  little 
trouble.  Since  yesterday  I  have  been  coddling  myself  :  I 
read,  I  smoke,  I  rejoice  in  the  idea  that  my  theses  are  done ; 
but  the  great  trouble  is  lighting  my  fire.  I  have  to  light 
it,  it  is  freezing,  but  it  blackens  one's  fingers  ;  I  have  to 
use  the  bellows,  it  is  such  a  trouble.  ...  I  interrupt 
my  letter  every  five  minutes  to  work  with  the  tongs  or 
bellows.  .  .  .  Thanks  to  the  Saints,  I  think  I  have  suc- 
ceeded. At  the  end  of  my  letter  I  will  tell  you  if  I  have.  .  .  . 
But,  dearest  Virginie,  if  you  wish  to  talk  over  Bernardin 
(de  Saint  Pierre)  what  is  there  to  prevent  you  ?  Write 
on  a  scrap  of  paper,  as  you  read,  all  that  seems  strange 
to  you,  and  let  us  chat  on  paper  as  we  would  by  our  fireside. 
Poor  man,  is  he  then  so  imbecile  ?  You  know  him  better 
than  I  do  now.  All  I  know  of  him  is  that  his  Physics  and 
Physiology  are  bound  up  in  God,  and  that  this  bricklaying 

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LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF  H.  TAINE 

and  housekeeping  God  plays  rather  a  flat  part  in  all  his 
explanations.  But  I  am  ignorant  of  his  moral  ideas,  and 
I  know  that  I  found  in  him  many  ingenious  things  and, 
under  the  sentimentalism  of  his  time,  a  good  and  noble 
heart.  You  have,  it  seems  to  me,  much  more  to  read  : 
Robertson  (History  of  America)  is  very  useful ;  methodical, 
reasonable,  moderate,  learned  and  conscientious,  he  is 
neither  an  artist,  a  statesman,  nor  a  philosopher,  but  the 
rest  is  excellent.  He  is  indeed  Walter  Scott's  brother, 
and  the  Historian  of  all  that  Scotch  school,  which,  if  it 
add  up  all  its  authors  together,  cannot  produce  one  half 
of  a  Lord  Byron. 

Gibbon  is  more  sceptical  and  slightly  Frenchified,  but 
he  has  the  same  merits.  I  should  also  like  you  to  cast  your 
eyes  on  Froissart  and  write  to  me  about  it  all. 

I  see  in  your  letter  the  word  insignificant  underlined. 
Since  you  ask  for  my  opinion  on  your  epistolary  style 
I  will  give  it  you.  The  best  on  this  subject  is  to  have  no 
opinion  to  give,  because  true  style  in  a  letter  consists  in 
writing  what  comes  into  your  head  without  troubling  to 
put  it  well.  As  to  your  own,  I  would  say  that  it  deserves 
rather  the  contrary  reproach  to  the  underlined  word. 
Sometimes  I  seem  to  see  a  man's  hand  in  it  rather  than 
a  woman's,  and  some  people  might  perhaps  think  it  rather 
too  expressive,  for  it  is  an  understood  thing  that  a  girl 
should  have  retiring  manners  and  a  soul  of  satin.  It  is 
probably  that  somewhat  hasty  frankness  and  originality 
of  language  which  struck  your  uncle  and  brought  upon  you 
the  favourable  judgment  and  slight  strictures  which  you 
mention.  You  thought  you  had  carefully  disguised  your- 
self, my  poor  girl,  but,  believe  me,  it  is  impossible  always 

276 


RETURN   TO   PARIS 

to  do  so.  A  phrase  is  a  revelation.  Here  is  one  from  your 
letter,  "  You  must  force  yourself  to  be  amused  ;  it  is  a 
labour  like  any  other.  One  should  try  and  remain  young 
as  long  as  possible."  Three  or  four  such  words  differ 
from  the  usual  tone  of  girls  of  your  age.  But  never 
mind  ;  the  thing  is  to  be  as  little  stupid,  tiresome  and 
bored  as  possible.  We  must  consider  public  opinion,  but 
not  torture  ourselves  on  account  of  it. 
My  fire  is  burning.  Glory  and  victory  ! 


To  his  Mother. 

March  17,  1853. 

My  Latin  thesis  has  been  returned  to  me  with  permission 
to  print  it.  M.  Saint-Marc  Girardin  has  the  French  one, 
and  promises  to  let  me  know  about  it  before  the  end  of 
the  month. 

There  is  nothing  interesting  to  tell  you ;  I  am  peacefully 
giving  my  lessons.  I  go  to  the  libraries,  I  work  at  home 
in  the  evenings,  I  sometimes  feel  bored  when  my  head 
aches.  I  have  been  five  or  six  times  to  the  theatre  in  six 
months  ;  everything  is  therefore  passable  if  not  good. 
Sometimes  I  see  the  future  in  dark  colours,  but  a  cup 
of  coffee  or  a  small  medical  or  philosophical  discovery 
brightens  me  up  again.  On  the  whole  I  am  happier 
than  last  year. 

In  fact,  ennui  is  the  great  evil  in  life  ;  when  it  is  ex- 
changed for  serious  occupation,  without  sorrows,  everything 
is  gained.  Perhaps,  even  if  one  has  a  definite  talent,  it 
is  a  mistake  to  come  out  of  the  common  rut ;  one's  fireside 

277 


LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF  H.  TAINE 

is  the  most  comfortable  place  ;  and  if  I  had  before  me  a 
passable  University  post,  even  in  a  country  town,  I  should 
like  it  better  than  my  knight-errant  sort  of  life.  This  will 
be  the  happiest,  though,  if  you  come  to  live  here.  Who 
can  tell  the  future  ?  and  what  strange  changes  may  take 
place  !  I  am  no  longer  counting  on  my  own  plans.  Chance 
does  more  than  calculation,  and  if  I  succeed  some  day,  it 
may  be  because  I  have  left  the  University. 

I  shall  probably  go  next  week  to  a  magnetism  seance.1 
Last  night,  at  an  at  home  at  Madame  Seilliere's,  we  amused 
ourselves  for  two  hours  in^not  turning  tables  and  hats  ; 
my  scepticism  spoilt  all  the  experiments. 


To  Edouard  de  Suckau. 

April  11,  1853. 

MY  DEAR  EDOUARD, — What  are  you  doing  ?  I  have  your 
trouble2  on  my  mind  ;  have  you  begun  studying  something 
in  order  to  forget  it  ?  My  poor  old  chum,  we  are  the  two 
vols.  of  one  work  ;  I  had  this  much  more  trouble  than 
you,  that  I  had  been  unfortunate  enough  to  write  a  Latin 
thesis  in  vain,  and  I  advise  you  to  seek  consolation  in  a 
literary  thesis,  as  I  have  done.  And  even  there,  I  have  had 
worry  upon  worry.  M.  Saint-Marc  Girardin  has  made  me 
leave  out  the  comparison  between  Louis  XIV.  and  the 
Amorous  Lion,  La  Fontaine's  little  love  stories,  etc.  .  .  . 
He  tolerates,  but  only  tolerates,  the  philosophical  part. 

1  At  Alexis'. 

2  E.  de  Suckau  had  had  to  give  up  the  philosophical  thesia  he 
had  prepared  on  Liberty. 

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Still  he  is  a  polished  and  witty  gentleman,  and  there  is 
some  pleasure  in  being  scratched  by  him  ;  but  M.  Le  Clerc  ! ! 
His  advice  is  contrary  to  that  of  M.  Saint-Marc  G-irardin. 
"  The  chapter  on  portraits  is  in  too  frivolous  a  tone  ;  sup- 
press one  half  of  your  quotations,  etc.  .  .  .  The  word 
grivois  is  not  French  (!) ;  take  care  not  to  scandalize  the 
young  ladies  and  children  who  read  La  Fontaine,  etc.  .  .  ." 
I  try  to  correct,  and  spoil  everything.  The  French  copy 
has  not  been  returned  to  me  yet,  I  do  not  know  when  I  can 
get  it  printed,  and  in  the  meanwhile  I  am  larded  with 
pin-pricks.  And  one  has  to  be  modest,  humble,  docile, 
obsequious,  flattering  when  in  one's  heart  one  is  sending 
people  to  the  devil,  Pray  for  me,  as  I  pray  for  you. 

Dear  Ed.,  we  must  steep  ourselves  in  our  science,  and 
look  out  of  the  window  as  little  as  possible.  I  read  Gall 
and  I  ponder  on  characters.  What  are  their  causes,  and  the 
causes  of  passions  ?  Spinoza  has  shown  that  they  were 
the  ideas  ;  then  why  have  certain  people  a  predisposition 
to  entertain  one  series  of  ideas  exclusively  ?  For  instance, 
why  does  the  miser  consider  his  gain  in  everything  and 
a  kind  man  think  of  the  happiness  of  others,  etc.  ?  Should 
we  believe  in  types  ?  What  do  our  analyses  tell  us 
thereon  ?  What  do  you  yourself  say  ?  I  hardly  have 
time  to  work  it  out,  the  hours  pass  too  quickly  !  My  life 
— our  life,  I  think — is  made  up  of  languor  and  ennui,  and 
sudden  gusts  of  passion  and  will.  Happy  man,  you  will 
see  the  first  smiles  of  the  spring,  whilst  I  shall  enjoy  the 
hot  stones  and  dusty  street  of  our  beloved  Paris.  Think 
over  my  request  and  try  to  find  four  days  during  the  holi- 
days to  come  with  me  and  bask  in  the  sun  like  lizards  at 
Fontainebleau. 

279 


LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF  H.  TAINE 

Did  you  ascertain  whether  the  lady,  your  hostess,  was 
really  dressing  at  the  time  mentioned  by  Alexis  ? l 

I  have  decided  for  Livy.  I  have  begun  reading  him 
to-day  ;  I  shall  have  to  read  over  a  series  of  German 
horrors  and  blind  myself  with  their  dusty  pedantism. 
Since  I  am  an  outlaw  I  must  accept  the  benefits  of  my 
profession  !  Livy  is  not  very  amusing,  he  is  a  phrase- 
monger who  seeks  neither  for  the  Truth  nor  the  Life,  but 
who  is  a  moralist  and  an  orator.  I  shall  have  to  praise  him 
more  than  he  deserves.  Ever  more  constraint !  !  What 
a  divine  saying  this  is  :  "  Words  were  given  to  Man  to 
conceal  his  thoughts  !  " 

And  then  one  is  looked  upon  as  a  window-breaker. 
M.  Le  Clerc  gave  me  to  understand  that  I  was  considered 
as  a  rebel,  and  his  Academical  laughter  honoured  me  by 
exerting  itself  over  my  adventures.  I  am  negotiating  for 
permission  to  dedicate  my  thesis  to  M.  Vacherot.  One 
must  have  a  licence  to  show  gratitude  !  The  devil  take 
life  !  long  live  one's  friends.  Write  to  me,  dear  Ed.,  and 
a  warm-  handshake. 


To  the  same. 

April  25,  1853. 

MY  DEAR  EDOUARD, — Here  is,  it  seems  to  me,  a  fine 
subject  for  a  thesis,  and  a  philosophical  one.  One  would 
first  have  to  ask  the  Faculty  to  be  allowed  to  treat  it  in  a 
historical  manner. 

1  Alexis  was  a  celebrated  somnambulist.  M.  de  Suckau,  in  his 
answer,  states  that  the  fact  above  mentioned  is  correct. 

280 


RETURN   TO  PARIS 

Aristotle's  Physic. 

The  book  has  not  been  translated  into  French.1  Nobody 
has  touched  it,  save  a  few  words  in  Ravaisson.  I  read  it 
at  the  Ecole  ;  it  is  magnificent ;  it  is  a  simple  generalization 
of  Experience  with  the  interpretation  of  generalizations. 
A  simple  exposition,  tending  to  make  it  clearer.  It  is  a 
service  to  render  to  science,  with  no  danger  for  these 
gentlemen. 

If  you  like  the  idea,  write  to  me  and  I  will  speak  to  them 
about  it. 

It  will  be  more  amusing  than  an  insipid  analysis  of  some 
unknown  imbecile  of  the  Middle  Ages  or  a  thesis  on  Florian. 
And,  especially,  it  is  new. 

My  book  is  being  printed.  Endless  trouble,  calls  on 
M.  Le  Clerc,  corrections,  etc.  ...  At  last,  I  hope,  I  am 
nearing  the  port.  To-morrow  I  am  expecting  the  first 
proofs.  I  am  so  burdened  with  occupations  that  I  do  not 
know  whether  I  shall  have  time  to  write  you  these  three 
pages.  My  mother  Is  still  in  Paris,  I  have  several  times 
gone  down  with  her  to  Poissy,  I  am  an  intermediary  in 
a  delicate  and  important  affair  ; 2  I  spend  my  evenings 
with  her ;  the  rest  of  the  time  is  taken  up  by  lessons  and 
classes. 

I  have  been  informed  indirectly  that  I  was  not  to  dedicate 
my  thesis  to  M.  Vacherot ;  I  will  therefore  dedicate  it  to 
no  one,  and  I  shall  present  it  to  him  in  person,  since  it  is 
impossible  otherwise.  I  have  learnt  many  things  in  ray 
conversations  with  M.  Le  Clerc.  I  am  considered  in  the 

1  M.  Barthelemy  Saint  Hilaire's  translation  only  appeared  in  186'2 
3  His  elder  sister's  marriage. 

281 


LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF  H.   TAINE 

University  as  "an  ungovernable  spirit  who  will  go  to 
perdition  in  spite  of  any  good  advice."  Indeed  I  have 
the  most  monstrous  reputation  possible.  Some  one  in 
high  station,  whose  name  I  was  not  told,  was  even  surprised 
that  I  should  have  been  sent  to  a  sixieme  at  Besan9on  ; 
he  thought  it  was  in  a  Communal  School.  So  that  I  shall 
certainly  remain  in  Paris  next  year.  It  all  comes  from 
the  Ecole  ;  besides  the  notes  which  were  read  to  us,  there 
were  some  secret  notes,  and,  I  fear,  punishment  for  our 
conversations.  My  good  Ed.,  your  gentleness  saved  you  ; 
you  may  take  a  few  liberties  now  without  giving  umbrage. 
As  to  me,  however  harmless  I  may  be  now,  prejudice  is 
acquired,  and  I  am  proscribed.  Freedom  and  the  moun- 
tains ! 

Edmond  is  leaving  Greece  in  May  ;  he  will  spend  three 
months  at  Rome  and  return  here  in  November.  He  says 
that  Athens  is  a  little  country  town  with  bigots  and  gossips, 
and  he  is  already  sick  of  it.  We  will  run  our  chances 
together. 

I  am  finishing  Gall ;  I  assure  you  that  it  stirs  up  a  great 
many  ideas.  It  is  the  negation  of  Spinoza's  theory  on 
Passions.  But  I  am  only  philosophizing  by  fits  and 
starts,  on  the  way  to  my  lessons.  You  psychologize  peace- 
fully ensconced  in  the  leisure  of  Professorship. 

Go  ahead,  dear  old  man,  and  the  devil  take  the  Inqui- 
sitors who  have  burnt  us  both.  We  shall  be  resuscitated, 
I  dare  swear.  For  the  present  let  us  shake  hands  affec- 
tionately in  our  common  grave. 


282 


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To  the  same. 

May  31,  1853. 

DEAR  ED., — I  am  a  Doctor.  Six  hours'  discussion,  an 
attack  from  the  Catholic  Wallon  on  the  Paganism  of  my 
Latin  thesis.  Nobody  spoke  of  the  Pantheism  of  the 
French  one.  They  heckled  me  a  good  deal  about  the  plan, 
and  especially  on  the  men's  characters,  which  I  was 
accused  of  constructing  arbitrarily.  M.  Gamier  much 
attacked  the  Being,  the  action,  the  unity,  the  variety,  etc., 
and  alluded  to  your  thesis.  I  retired  from  my  ground  on 
Philosophy  ;  I  was  grave  as  a  cat  drinking  vinegar,  to  that 
extent  that  M.  Vacherot  thinks  that  I  did  not  carry  the 
ensign  of  Philosophy  high  enough  or  frankly  enough.  .  .  . 
Otherwise,  every  thing  was  quite  correct,  and  I  am  through. 
Now  for  calls  of  thanks.  I  am  doing  my  Livy,  etc.  .  .  . 

The  more  I  think  of  it,  and  the  more  I  remember  Wallon 
and  the  other  Catholics  at  the  Sorbonne,  the  more  I  fear 
that  you  may  get  drowned  in  the  sources  of  the  Nile. 
Read  Marcus  Aurelius  again,  I  beg  of  you,  and  take  the 
Academy  prize  for  Morality.  You  have  a  hundred  chances, 
for  nobody  goes  in  for  it,  and  the  crowned  books  are  a 
Psychology,  a  History  of  Literature,  a  Treatise  on  Rodin, 
etc.  You  will  kill  two  birds  with  one  stone. 

Prevost  assisted  me  in  the  supreme  passage.  The  Boole 
had  been  authorized  to  come.  All  my  friends  embellished 
the  ceremony.  Dear  Ed.,  I  regretted  the  necessity  for  the 
class  at  Bourges  as  much  as  you  did.  Really,  dear  old 
fellow,  you  would  have  had  a  dreadful  time.  How  disgust- 
ing to  watch  pin-pricks  for  six  hours  !  There  was  no 
means  of  raising  the  level  of  the  discussion ;  I  might 
have  done  so  with  M.  Havet,  but  it  was  too  dangerous. 

283 


LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF  H.  TAINE 

Well,  I  have  passed  the  Caudine  Forks.  Your  turn  now, 
and  quickly  !  It  will  bring  you  back  to  Paris  or  send 
you  to  a  Faculty.  As  for  me  I  remain  an  outlaw. 

To  his  Mother. 

May  31,  1853. 

DEAR  MOTHER, — I  am  a  Doctor,  after  six  hours'  dis- 
cussion, unanimously.  My  friends  are  pleased  with  my 
thesis,  and  those  gentlemen's  criticisms  were  honeyed  with 
praise.  My  uncle J  was  there,  and  several  of  my  old  masters. 
I  must  now  pay  calls  of  thanks,  etc.  The  printing  cost 
577  fr.,  I  may  sell  about  100  fr.  worth,2  and  I  am  earning 
enough  money  at  present. 

This  is  the  last  thorn  out  of  my  foot.  Now  I  must  have 
an  Academy  prize  ;  I  am  working  hard  at  it.  I  hope  to 
finish  by  the  holidays,  and  then  I  shall  vigorously  push 
on  my  big  philosophical  book,  which  I  have  temporarily 
abandoned.  My  life  is  very  busy  with  the  lessons  I  am 
giving,  the  lectures  I  am  attending,  my  calls,  etc.  .  .  . 
It  is  an  excellent  thing,  as  it  prevents  me  from  being  bored. 
But  it  is  a  pity  that  I  shall  only  have  a  few  days  to  spend 
with  you  next  month  when  the  great  day  comes.3 

To  M.  Hatzfeldt. 

June  10,  1853. 

How  is  Shakespeare,  and  what  do  you  think  of  the 
Poitevins  ?4  You  must  begin  to  taste  provincial  life ;  what 

1  M.  Adolphe  Bezanson. 

3  The  whole  edition  was  bought  up  in  a  few  weeks. 
3  Mile.  Virginie  Taine's  wedding  with  Dr.  Hippolyte  Letorsay. 
*  M.  Hatzfeldt  had  been  appointed  Professor  of  Foreign  Literature 
at  the  Faculty  of  Poitiers.; 

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RETURN   TO   PARIS 

do  you  think  of  it  ?  I  only  know  one  resource  in  Poitiers, 
which  is  the  Baths.  Let  me  have  two  lines,  I  beg  of  you, 
to  tell  me  how  you  like  your  new  life  and  also  that  you 
have  not  forgotten  me. 

I  have  made  the  leap  and  am  now  a  Doctor.  You 
promised  me  your  criticism  and  advice  ;  please  do  not 
spare  me  either  the  one  or  the  other.  Be  a  faithful  debtor 
as  I  am  an  exacting  creditor. 

You  will  see  in  the  two  books  a  literary  method  which 
I  have  been  teaching  for  a  long  time,  and  traces  of  a  philo- 
sophy which  differs  from  yours  ;  but  you  will  excuse  it, 
I  hope,  when  you  meet  reminiscences  of  your  lectures 
everywhere. 

I  have  passed  through  many  hands,  but  my  first  master 
has  left  his  mark  in  my  thoughts  and  writings. 

This  is  but  a  poor  compliment  to  pay  you,  when  I  have 
to  thank  you  for  so  many  things,  and  amongst  others  for 
the  lesson  you  have  procured  for  me.  It  is  useful  if  not 
amusing,  and  Grammar  boils  the  pot  of  Philosophy.  I 
hope  that  you  are  at  least  happier  than  I  am,  you  teach 
the  philosophy  of  Literature  and  I  correct  Greek  exercises. 

Believe,  my  dear  Sir,  in  the  sincere  affection  of  your 
devoted,  etc. 

To  M.  F.  GuizoL 

SIR, — I  am  told  at  the  Sorbonne  that  a  Doctor  has  a  right 
to  send  his  thesis  to  an  Honorary  Professor  of  the  Faculty ; 
but  I  have  other  reasons  for  asking  you  to  accept  mine. 
Cornells,1  has  no  doubt  told  you  what  you  have  done  for 

1  Cornelis  de  Witt,  M.  Guizot's  son-in-law. 
285 


LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF  H.  TAINE 

me  and  for  many  young  men,  confined  in  a  College  and 
groping  amongst  Latin  exercises,  Greek  grammars,  chro- 
nological tables  and  Historical  Genealogies.  By  means 
of  your  books  we  saw  light  for  the  first  time,  and,  thanks 
to  you,  we  entered  the  moral  world  guided  by  an  exact 
scientific  method.  The  book  I  offer  to  you  is  an  effort 
towards  those  ideas  and  an  attempt  at  this  method,  perhaps 
an  unfortunate  attempt,  but  one  which  testifies,  I  hope, 
to  a  desire  to  think.  You  encouraged  this  desire  when  you 
so  kindly  held  out  your  hand  to  me  at  the  time  of  my  sad 
debut  in  the  University.  Believe,  sir,  that  I  remember 
both  this  service  and  the  other,  and  that  I  express  feel- 
ings of  a  long  standing  when  I  tell  you  of  the  respect  and 
gratitude  with  which  I  remain  your  obedient  servant. 


Answer  from  M.  Guizot. 

VAL  RICHER,  June  14,  1853. 

I  wished  to  read  you  before  answering  your  letter,  Sir, 
and  I  have  read  your  French  thesis  with  great  and  genuine 
pleasure.  It  is  excellent  literature,  neither  commonplace 
nor  eccentric  ;  ideas  abound  and  are  presented  under  a 
living  and  agreable  form.  You  have  made  use  of  Philo- 
sophy a  great  deal ;  it  is  obviously  your  favourite  source. 
La  Fontaine  had  not  gone  into  it  as  deeply  as  you,  and 
I  was  much  struck  as  I  read,  with  the  extreme  difference 
between  your  starting-point  and  point  of  view  and  those 
of  your  author.  Your  merit  is  all  the  greater  in  showing 
yourself  such  an  intelligent  interpreter.  I  hear  that 
the  discussion  on  your  thesis  was  worthy  of  the  writing 
of  it ;  many  congratulations.  I  am  much  touched  with 

286 


RETURN  TO   PARIS 

the  sentiments  expressed  in  your  letter,  and  I  beg  you  to 
believe  in  my  own.  GUIZOT. 

P.S. — I  shall  read  your  Latin  thesis. 

To  his  Mother. 

June,  1853. 

I  am  overwhelmed  with  calls  to  pay,  etc.,  added  to  many 
lessons,  and  the  necessity  of  going  to  libraries  for  my  Livy, 
to  thank  my  examiners,  my  friends,  professors,  etc.,  who 
were  present  at  my  thesis.  I  have  written  a  multitude  of 
letters  to  M.  Guizot,  etc.  .  .  .  One  of  my  judges,1  who 
knows  Beranger  very  well,  asked  me  for  my  thesis  for  him  ; 
I  accompanied  it  with  a  letter,  of  which  I  enclose  a  copy 
to  give  you  an  idea  of  my  progress  in  the  serpentine  style. 
There  will  probably  be  a  line  about  me  in  the  Debate,  and 
I  think  I  shall  have  an  article  on  Thursday  in  the  two 
newspapers  of  the  Instruction  Publique. 

My  book  will  bring  me  the  acquaintance  of  a  lot  of 
personalities ;  I  had  to  offer  a  copy  to  MM.  Cousin  and 
Villemain.  Every  one  gives  me  hope  for  the  future.  If  I 
get  the  prize  for  Livy  my  disgrace  will  have  been  fruitful. 
So  all  is  going  well.  Here  is  my  epistle  to  Beranger  : — 

June,  1853. 

SIR, — It  is  indeed  bold  in  a  student  from  the  Latin 
Quarter  to  offer  La  Fontaine  to  Beranger.  But 
M.  Arnould  encourages  me  to  do  so,  and  tells  me  that 
a  great  kinsman  is  always  well  received,  whatever 
the  hand  which  presents  him.  Allow  me,  therefore, 
to  bring  you  one  of  your  ancestors.  Though  a  poet, 
he  was  natural,  in  the  days  of  Boileau  and  pomposity. 

1  M.  Arnould. 
287 


LIFE   AND   LETTERS   OF   H.   TAINE 

He  founded  a  style  that  no  one  dare  touch  after  him  ; 
he  praised  Freedom  on  every  occasion,  and  it  was  not 
his  fault  that  he  did  not  suffer  for  it.  You  see,  Sir, 
that  he  is  of  your  family.  I  philosophized  about 
him,  perhaps  at  his  expense,  and  by  the  side  of  his 
delightful  wit  my  syllogisms  bear  a  very  barbaric 
aspect,  but  in  whom  could  they  find  more  indulgence 
than  in  him  whose  refrains  are  theories,  and  who  gave 
the  wings  of  song  to  Philosophy  ? 

Beranger's  Answer. 

June  21,  1853. 

I  had  not  imagined,  Sir,  that  a  thesis  could  be  so 
diverting  and  afford  so  much  interest  to  ignoramuses 
of  my  description.  I  have  changed  my  mind  since  read- 
ing the  copy  of  yours  which  you  have  had  the  kindness 
to  send  me  through  my  friend  M.  Arnould.  Not  only, 
Sir,  have  you  changed  my  opinion  concerning  theses, 
but  even  that  which  I  had  formed  respecting  those 
gentlemen  who  are  your  judges.  Those  glories  of 
Pedagogy  appeared  to  me  like  great  phantoms,  eter- 
nally grave,  who  imposed  fines  upon  each  other  if  a 
smile  hovered  on  their  lips.  Such  is  ignorance  !  I 
speak  of  my  own,  of  course,  What  fines  you  must 
have  exposed  them  to  pay,  Sir,  when  putting  before 
them,  with  so  much  real  Science  and  such  ingenious 
wit,  all  the  beauties  of  that  most  perfect  of  our  poets ! 

You  have  written  a  fine  work  in  that  language  of 
ours  which  our  Academicians  cannot  always  rightly 
use  ;  in  general,  they  prefer  narrowing  it  down  to  ex- 
tending it ;  there  always  is  enough  room  for  their  ideas. 
288 


RETURN   TO   PARIS 

Your  work  is  all  the  more  deserving,  and  I  am  the 
more  proud  that  you  deigned  to  think  of  me  in  the 
distribution  of  your  copies.  Receive  my  thanks  for 
it ;  I  owe  to  you  a  commentary  on  my  Breviary. 

Accept,  Sir,  the  assurance  of  my  very  cordial  con- 
sideration. 

Your  devoted  servant, 

BERANGER. 

To  Edouard  de  Suckau. 

June  18,  1853. 

MY  DEAR  ED., — I  write  a  line  in  haste  ;  I  am  off  to  the 
Ardennes  in  a  few  days,  and  I  must  do  some  calls  and  shop- 
ping to-day,  which  will  keep  me  all  the  afternoon  under 
the  Parisian  sun. 

I  am  quite  of  your  opinion  as  to  writing  a  simple  His- 
torical exposition,  without  dogmatical  judgment.  But  I  do 
not  advise  you  to  write  an  exposition  of  Stoic  Morality  in 
general,  and  not  even  of  that  which  is  common  to  Arrianus, 
Epictetus,  and  Marcus  Aurelius  because  : 

1.  It  has  been  done  already  (Ravaisson,  Vacherot,  etc.). 

2.  It  is  very  philosophical,  very  dangerous ;  they  will 
ask  you  for  your  judgment  about  it. 

3.  It  will  not  be  amusing  enough.     It  is   absolutely 
necessary  nowadays  to  put  on  a  literary  garb. 

My  advice  to  you  is  to  write  a  study  ct  la  Sainte  Beuve 
(with  philosophy  and  Edwardism,  of  course)  on  Marcus 
Aurelius  himself,  on  the  individual.  There  are  but  two 
pleasant  kinds  of  writing,  my  dear  fellow  :  on  the  one  hand, 
monograph  studies  of  character,  of  life,  details  of  the  soul, 
things  of  Art ;  and  on  the  other,  exalted  Philosophy,  gene- 

289  u 


THE  LIFE  AND  LETTERS  OF  H.  TAINE 

ralities  whose  arms  are  as  wide  as  the  world.  The  things 
between  these  two  lack  grandeur  or  interest.  You  can 
make  of  Marcus  Aurelius  a  charming  book,  which  will  be 
read,  which  will  produce  honest  men,  pagans  (the  same 
thing  !)  and  philosophers  (the  same  thing  again).  You 
will  please  men  of  the  world  and  historians,  and  you  may 
get  an  Academy  prize.  An  exposition  of  Stoic  morality 
in  general,  even  with  characters  transcribed  from  Arrianus 
will  only  please  rats  in  their  garrets,  like  myself.  Those 
characters  are,  like  La  Bruyere's,  moral  satires,  under 
the  shape  of  portraits  too  general  to  be  true  and  living. 
Marcus  Aurelius,  half  discouraged,  sad,  sceptical,  writing 
in  his  tent  among  the  Quades,  by  a  river  in  Grermania,  or 
amidst  Roman  orgies,  feeling  the  brokenness  of  everything, 
with  Commodus  for  his  son,  the  hog  Verus  for  a  brother, 
a  prostitute  for  his  wife,  the  traitor  Avidius  Cassius  for 
his  friend,  is  a  Pagan  Jesus  Christ.  Add  as  precedents 
a  bit  of  introduction  on  Thraseas,  Helvidius,  and  at  the 
end  the  Jurisconsults  and  Julian.  You  are  entitled  to 
treat  all  this  briefly  and  with  emotion,  and  to  preach  the 
Word  without  appearing  to  be  dogmatical,  etc. 

It  seems  that  you  work  as  Cassar  fought.  Earn  some 
money  ;  next  year  we  will  dissect  together  both  the  moral 
and  the  physical  man.  I  am  reading  Dezobry  to  get  some 
local  colour  for  my  Academy  essay.  I  am  going  to  tackle 
Macchiavelli. 

You  will  bring  me  your  prize-giving  speech.  I  advise 
you  to  make  it  witty  ;  it  is  all  that  you  can  do,  and  that 
sort  of  currency  will  always  be  accepted  in  France. 

I  can  think  of  no  more  theses.  Albert  writes  to  ask  me 
for  one,  and  I  have  not  yet  answered. 

290 


Appendices 


291 


Appendix  I 

PHILOSOPHY   NOTES 
(August,  1849) 

"What  we  are  doing  here  is  nothing  more  or  less  than  a 
Metaphysical  geometry. 

First,  we  consider  the  laws  of  Thought.  We  then  proceed 
to  state  certain  concepts  of  Thought.  Putting  those  laws  and 
those  concepts  together,  we  point  out  the  deductions  which 
necessarily  follow.  For  the  laws  of  Thought  are  no  other 
than  the  general  and  necessary  modes  of  action  of  Thought. 
Knowing,  therefore,  how  Thought  acts,  and  supposing  that 
it  does  act,  if  we  apply  this  determinate  action  to  the  above- 
mentioned  concepts,  we  shall  know  what  Thought  will  neces- 
sarily draw  therefrom. 

Our  work,  therefore,  reduces  itself  to  this  :  supposing  the 
existence  of  a  Thought,  or  acting  Reason,  to  determine  what 
will  be  the  different  affirmations  that  it  will  successively  state. 
These  affirmations  are  what  are  called  Absolute  Truths. 

It  will  be  seen  that  no  part  is  here  given  to  experiment. 
We  remain  exclusively  in  the  regions  of  Pure  Reason.  We 
take,  not  an  individual  reason,  but  ideal  Reason  in  itself.  We 
do  not  start  from  a  determinate  and  particular  fact.  We  state 
but  the  different  affirmations  and  the  different  concepts  of 
this  ideal  Reason,  which  follow  from  its  nature.  So  does  the 
Geometrician  who  states  the  ideal  Extension  and  some  ideal 
figures,  and  then  shows  the  consequences  of  those  ideal  con- 
cepts. We  will  not  move  a  single  step  from  the  region  of  ideas. 

293 


APPENDIX  I 

Note  that  we  also  find  those  laws  of  Reason  a  priori.  For 
we  draw  them  from  the  concept  of  Thought  considered  in 
itself.  In  other  words,  we  say  that  to  conceive  Thought  is 
to  conceive  that  it  has  such  and  such  laws,  i.e.  such  and  such 
modes  of  action.  Reason,  conceiving  itself,  gives  us  its  own 
laws. 

It  is  therefore  not  an  Ego  who  is  writing  this  work,  it  is 
Thought. 

It  ensues  from  the  foregoing  that  all  the  truths  which  we 
shall  state  here  will  be  not  only  truths  in  fact,  but  necessary 
truths,  and  that  the  existences  which  we  will  affirm  not  only 
exist,  but  also  cannot  but  exist. 

For  that  which  Reason  cannot  but  conceive  is  called  a 
necessary  thing.1 

PART  I 

AXIOM  :  For  Reason,  to  act  is  to  affirm,  in  other  words,  to  posit. 
Observation  :  When  I  speak  of  Reason  and  its  acts,  I  do  not 
mean  those  obscure  and  incomplete  coTSSejpSons^BRh  are  in 
the  mind  of  the  greater  number  of  men.  I  mean  clear  ancL 
completejdjjajs.  So  that  though  the  vulgar  may  d«-ny  my 
axiom,  all  philosophers  wilTj^'nuTlt.' 

a*1" 

Propositions.2 

1.  Reason,  in  its  first  act,  posits  the  existence  of  something. 

2.  That  something  is  Substance. 

3.  Reason  conceives  Substance  as  being  constituted  by  an 
infinity  of  attributes. 

4.  Reason  cannot  conceive  two  things  absolutely  identical. 

5.  Substance  manifests  itself  by  a  number  of  manifestations 

1  Note,  November  1850 :    "  This  is  pure  Idealism  ;    I  had  not 
yet  made  a  distinction  between  perceiving  and  conceiving." 

2  Only  the  propositions  can  be  stated  here.     They  are  followed 
by   demonstrations,   observations,    corollaries,    scholise,    etc.  ;    the 
whole  would  fill  a  volume.     Propositions  13  and  14,  the  shortest  of 
them,  are  given  here  as  a  specimen  of  the  work. 

294 


APPENDIX  I 

as  great  as  the  law  of  co-existences  admits  of ;  in  other  words, 
in  as  great  a  number  of  manifestations  as  there  are  diverse 
and  distinguishable  manifestations  to  be  conceived  in  it. 

6.  There  is  but  one  Substance. 

7.  Acts  are  no  other  than  the  attributes  themselves,  posited 
as  existing,  either  in  totality  or  in  parts. 

8.  Nothing  exists,  except  the  Substance  already  posited, 
its  attributes,  and  its  acts. 

9.  Nothing  exists  (except  Substance)  which  is  not  conceived 
as  existing  in  the  Substance. 

10.  Reason   can  conceive   in  Substance  but  two  diverse, 
or  distinguishable,  manifestations  only.     Those  two  manifesta- 
tions are  : 

God,  or  the  Substance,  insomuch  as  it  manifests  itself  by 
an  immediate  act ; 

The  World,  or  the  Substance,  insomuch  as  it  passes  through 
an  infinite  series  of  finite  and  progressive  acts  in  order  to  reach 
an  adequate  act,  i.e.  an  act  which  expresses  its  essence  com- 
pletely. 

11.  God  and  the  World  exist. 

12.  Everything  has  a  cause,  save  the   Sukstanre  and  its 
attributes. 

13.  God  is  anterior  in  nature  to  the  World,  in  other  words 
He  is  logically  conceived  before  the  World. 

14.  God  is  not  the  cause  of  the  World. 

15.  Everything  that  is  conceived  is  posited. 

16.  The  series  of  the  acts  of  the  World  contain  the  totality 
of  all  the  distinct  and  subordinate  acts  which  can  be  con- 
ceived. 

17.  (This  proposition  is  missing,  having  been  scratched  out.) 

18.  Every  determinate  act  is  one. 

19.  Every  one  act  is  determinate. 

20.  The  indeterminate  act  exists. 

21.  The  indeterminate  act  is  non-one  or  divisible. 

22.  This  act  is  unlimited  or  infinite  in  its  kind. 

23.  Each  term  contains  the  preceding  one,  and  is  but  that 

295 


APPENDIX  I 

term  itself  which  has  become  more  adequate.     In  other  words, 
all  posited  acts  subsist  and  develop  at  the  same  time. 

24.  The    indeterminate    and    extended    act   becomes    de- 
terminate and  one. 

25.  The  determinate  and  one  act  is  no  other  than  the  in- 
determinate and  extended  act  which  has  become  one  and 
determinate. 

PART  II 

OF   THOUGHT 
AXIOM  :   Thought  is  conceived  by  itself. 

1.  Thought  is  an  attribute  of  the  Substance. 

2.  Thought  is  infinite,  in  other  words,  it  has  for  its  object 
the  totality  of  existing  things. 

3.  An  act  which  is  determinate  in  the  order  of  Thought, 
in  other  words,  clear  and  determinate  Thought,  exists. 

4.  This    Thought,    amongst    other    distinct    objects,    has 
Thought  for  its  object. 

5.  This  Thought  is  no  other  than  the  indeterminate  and 
extended  act  which  has  become  one  and  thinking. 

Proposition  13. 

God  is  anterior  in  nature  to  the  World,  in  other  words  He 
is  logically  conceived  before  the  World. 

Demonstration  :  God  being  the  immediate  act  of  the  Sub- 
stance has  no  other  cause  than  the  Substance  itself.  On  the 
contrary,  the  finite  acts  through  which  the  world  passes  have 
not  the  cause  of  their  limitation  in  the  Substance,  but  (Prop.  4) 
in  the  necessity  of  a  differential  means.  This  differential 
means  (Prop.  10)  has  the  effect  of  rendering  the  World  distinct 
from  the  immediate  manifestation.  The  concept  of  the  World 
therefore  implies  the  concept  of  the  immediate  Manifestation 
or  God. 

Scholia  :  The  finite  acts  of  the  World,  having  a  cause 
(Prop.  12),  and  not  having  it  in  the  Substance  which  posits 

296 


APPENDIX  I 

the  full  and  immediate  act,  have  it  in  the  anterior  existence 
of  God,  which  implies  them  as  differential  means. 


Observation  :  Note  that  we  do  not  mean  by  this  that  God 
is  the  cause  of  the  World,  for  we  are  about  to  prove  the  con- 
trary. The  cause  of  the  finite  acts  of  the  World  is  the  Sub- 
stance, insomuch  as  it  is  considered  as  having  already  pro- 
duced God.  Its  power  of  production,  modified  by  that  first 
production,  causes  the  World.  The  World  is  contained  in 
power  within  the  Substance,  not  in  the  Substance  considered 
purely  and  simply,  but  in  the  Substance  considered  as  having 
already  produced  God. 

Proposition  14. 

God  is  not  the  cause  of  the  World. 

Demonstration  :  In  effect  He  is  not  of  the  Essence  of  the 
World.  For  this  Essence  is  the  very  Substance  which  is  the 
first  concept  of  Reason  (Prop.  2),  and  which  consequently 
has  no  cause  (Def.  4  and  Prop.  12).  He  is  not  the 
cause  of  the  act  of  the  World.  For  (Def.  3)  this  act  is  but  the 
existence  itself  of  that  Essence.  It  is  that  Essence  which  is 
the  cause  of  the  World.  In  truth,  it  is  that  Essence,  no  longer 
simply  posited,  but  posited  as  having  already  produced  God 
(Prop.  13).  But,  outside  the  Essence  of  the  act,  there  is 
nothing  (Prop.  8).  Therefore,  God  is  the  cause  of  nothing 
in  the  World. 


Corollary  :  It  is  generally  demonstrated  in  the  same  way 
that  nothing  in  an  act  produces  another  thing,  but  that  the  Cause 
of  all  acts,  whatever  they  are,  is  the  absolute  Essence,  con- 
sidered as  having  produced  the  term  immediately  preceding  it. 

November,  1849-JfarcA,  1850. 

IDEA  OF  SCIENCE. 

Definition  :  The  true  or  perfect  idea  is  that  which  agrees 
with  its  object. 

297 


APPENDIX  I 

Proposition :  Perfect  Science  is  that  which  reproduces 
exactly  in  its  concepts  the  nature  and  order  of  things. 

The  first  proposition  of  Science  has  the  Substance  for  its 
object  .  .  . 


1st  Definition :   By  Substance,  I  mean  that  which  is  con- 
ceived by  itself  as  existing  in  itself  .  .  . 


2nd  Definition :    By  a  thing  necessarily  existing  I  mean  a 
thing  which  cannot  be  conceived  as  non-existing. 
Proposition  :   Substance  exists  necessarily. 


1st  Proposition :  There  is  a  determinate,  existing  Substance. 

Observation  :  Anterior  demonstrations  are  imperfect ;  the 
first  proposition  should  not  posit  the  existence  of  the  Sub- 
stance, but  of  the  Being.  I  mean  by  Being  that  which  is. 
The  Being,  or  that  which  is,  exists." 


The  work  is  continued  by  a  series  of  demonstrations  on  the 
Absolute,  the  existence  of  the  Absolute  Being,  proofs  of  this 
existence,  demonstrations  of  Logic,  etc. 

This  is  but  a  very  short  extract  of  those  metaphysical 
writings.  It  is  but  one  moment  of  M.  Taine's  thought,  but 
it  is  the  first  moment,  his  first  personal  and  prolonged  effort. 
It  is  the  spontaneous  work  of  a  constructive  mind,  which  at 
once  starts  on  the  building  of  a  theory  of  things  with  the 
materials,  such  as  they  are,  which  it  possesses.  Those 
materials  (Substance,  Attributes,  Cause,  Infinite,  etc.)  are 
those  provided  for  him  by  the  Ecole  teaching,  and  we  have 
seen  by  what  analysis  he  dissolves  them  later  on,  in  their 
elements,  in  explaining  their  psychological  genesis.  In  any 
case,  it  was  interesting  to  show  by  this  sample  the  natural 
aptitude  for  pure  Abstraction,  for  deduction,  for  construction, 
a  priori,  of  the  philosopher,  who,  in  his  work  and  systemati- 

298 


APPENDIX  I 

cally,  proceeded  by  induction,  putting  the  particular  at  the 
beginning  and  the  general  at  the  end  of  every  reasoning, 
nourishing  them  with  classified  facts  and  coloured  images, 
presenting  the  abstract  to  us  as  an  extract,  an  extract  of 
which  one  still  sees  the  prolongings  which  continued  into  the 
concrete,  ever  leading  us  to  the  idea  of  the  philosopher  through 
the  sensation  of  the  artist  (A.  C.). 


2<J9 


Appendix  II 

HISTORY  OF  PHILOSOPHY 

(FRAGMENTS) 
(July  1850) 

The  History  of  Philosophy  entirely  resembles  Natural 
History.  Organic  types,  like  philosophical  ideas,  have  their 
development,  their  connections,  their  progress,  their  con- 
ditions of  existence,  their  causes  of  waste. 

One  point  especially  deserves  preliminary  consideration. 
The  philosophical  idea,  left  to  itself,  would,  like  the  organic 
idea,  go  by  a  straight  and  continuous  motion  towards  its 
fixed  goal.  But  the  one  is  submitted  to  a  moral  temperature 
as  the  other  to  a  physical  temperature.  The  moral,  religious, 
artistic,  and  emotional  state  of  the  country  determine  the 
special  production  of  such  and  such  a  philosophical  idea. 
Great  account  must  therefore  be  taken  of  it  to  explain, 
at  a  given  moment,  the  wherefore  of  such  and  such  a  lacuna 
abortion,  or  development. 


Before  going  further,  reason  must  be  given  for  this  com- 
parison between  Natural  History  and  Philosophy. 

Given  a  power  of  producing  systems,  this  power  exists 
hypothetically  in  the  nation  in  question.  Now  this  power  is 
determined  by  the  circumstances  in  which  it  finds  itself. 
There  is  always  a  strange  element,  which  is  like  matter  for 
the  organic  idea.  This  is  the  prejudices,  habits,  environment, 
education,  religion,  and  beliefs  of  the  philosopher  in  question. 


300 


APPENDIX  II 

Philosophy  has  four  epochs — India,  Greece,  Scholasticism, 
and  Modern  Philosophy.  The  chronological  order  of  the 
systems  of  India  is  unknown  to  us.  I  know  nothing  of  Scholas- 
ticism. The  two,  moreover,  are  non-free  movements,  and  the 
prevailing  religion  must,  in  both  cases,  have  constrained  and 
deviated  the  movement  of  the  human  mind. 

There  remains  the  Modern  School,  but  I  know  nothing  of 
the  first  part  of  it,  the  XVIth  century  School.  I  will  there- 
fore postpone  the  examination  of  it  to  some  future  time.  I 
will  only  examine  the  moral  situation  from  which  the  Modern 
School  has  been  evolved. 

I. 

1.  An  anterior  theological  Philosophy  existed — Scholas- 
ticism. 2.  The  whole  of  Antiquity — Pythagoreans,  Alexan- 
drins,  Platonists,  Stoics,  Epicureans — was  found  again ;  and 
there  was  an  active  movement  against  the  Church,  the  power 
of  ecclesiastical  authority  was  weakened,  there  was  a  universal) 
rapid,  and  disorderly  flight  of  the  human  mind  after  a  long 
imprisonment. 

II. 

In  the  XVIIth  Century. 

1.  Power  of  the  Church,  which  prevents  Philosophy  from 
giving  a  personal  solution  on  the  Absolute  Objective,  and  in- 
clines it  towards  the  Subjective.  2.  A  Spirit  of  Regularity, 
Order,  and  Clearness,  which  causes  a  search  for  Method. 

III. 

In  the  XV I llth  Century. 

1.  Progress  of  Physical  Science,  inclining  towards  Sensuality 
and  Materialism.  2.  Enmity  towards  Christianity,  and  con- 
sequently against  the  anterior  Idealism  which  defended  it. 
3.  Influence  of  England,  free  in  Politics  and  in  Thought,  and 
which  is  in  its  nature  practical  and  sensualistic. 

301 


APPENDIX  II 

IV. 

In  the  XlXth  Century. 

1.  Universal  Scepticism,  producing  Kant's  attempt  and 
Scepticism.  2.  Need  of  beliefs,  producing  the  objective 
systems  of  Germany.  3.  Renascence  of  Spiritualism,  giving 
to  Philosophy  its  idealistic  character.  4.  Sentiment  of  the 
independent  progress  of  Man  (Hegel). 

Also,  as  a  general  cause,  the  development  of  the  Subjective ; 
Christian  influence,  psychological  analyses  of  sermons,  of 
direction,  or  dramatic  works,  of  novels.  Development  of 
the  sentiment  of  the  ego. 

Also  again,  God  everywhere,  Immortality,  Providence, 
Morality,  Free  Choice,  Christian  dogma. 

Such,  or  nearly  such,  I  think,  are  the  exterior  causes  which 
have  modified  the  law  of  the  philosophical  movement,  with- 
out straining  it,  for  it  is  free. 


Subjective  Character  of  Christianity. 

The  ancient  moral  temperature  in  which  the  Greek  Philo- 
sophy was  developed  is  the  moment  of  sensation  and  of  the 
Objective. 

That  in  which  Modern  Philosophy  was  developed  is  the 
Idealistic,  Subjective  Moment ;  it  is  Christianity. 

1.  Moral  and  subjective  character  of  the  Gospel.      To  love, 
to  be  pure,  to  be  inwardly  agreeable  to  God. 

2.  St.  Augustine's  influence  throughout  the  whole  of  the 
Middle  Ages.     Almost  an  exclusive  influence.     Deum  animam 
tantum  scire  cupio. 

3.  Practical  organization  of  the  Church  to  moralize  and 
spiritualize.     Sermons,  convents,  rules  of  direction,  Mass. 

4.  Character  of  God,  who  is  a  moral  Man.     Also  Jesus,  God. 
Analysis  of  God  is  thereby  Analysis  of  Man. 

5.  Christian  Spiritualism  ;   salvation  being  the  only  impor- 
tant thing,  one  should  trouble  exclusively  about  the  soul. 

302 


APPENDIX  II 

6.  Contrast  between  the  coarseness  of  the  real  world  and 
the  idealness  of  this  doctrine.  Thence,  inward  searchings, 
love,  development  of  the  affective,  feeling,  and  passive  part 
in  us. 

The  character  of  Christianity  is  therefore  to  bring  the  re- 
flexion of  Man  to  bear  exclusively  on  Man.  Which  is  precisely 
the  subjective  tendency. 

As  to  the  subjective  doctrine,  the  germ  of  it  is  in  St.  Augus- 
tine, who  begins  like  Descartes  by  the  cogito,  and  who  justifies 
the  senses  by  stating  that  they  reveal  to  us  but  their  modifica- 
tions. These  are  the  characters  by  which  Christianity  is  the 
third  moment  of  the  second  period.  But  its  anti-philosophi- 
cal character,  its  servitude  to  the  sacred  texts,  its  mysteries, 
its  religious  and  practical  nature,  its  theory  of  faith,  and 
its  innumerable  incoherences,  prevent  it  from  being  a  philo- 
sophical system.  It  is  simply  a  reconciling  of  divers  tendencies 
and  doctrines,  and  a  machine  for  action. 

As  to  its  nature,  it  is  difficult  to  define  it,  by  reason  of  its 
incoherences,  and  it  varies  according  to  ages. 

However,  here  are  the  principal  characters  : 

1.  Anti-realism.     The  earth  is  a  place  of  exile. 

2.  Morality  and  idealistic  elevation.      God  is  the  Sovereign 
Perfection  and  the  Sovereign  Good.     "  God,"  says  Joinville, 
"  is  so  good  and  excellent  a  thing  that  nothing  is  above  Him." 

3.  Morality  founded  on  relations  between  persons,  and  not 
on  the  relations  between  one  person  and  abstract  Good.     One 
must  love  God,  not  the  Good,  and  do  God's  will,  not  what  is 
good.     Thence  the  development  of  faith  and  love  (feminine 
and  passive  side),  weakness  of  reason,  and  of  liberty  (virile 
and  active  side). 

There  are  now  two  different  interpretations  of  God  and  His 
will  : 

1.  God,  a  King.    To  found  His  kindgom  on  earth  by  sub- 
mitting everything  to  the  Church  (Bible  side).     It  is  the 
Papal,  Ecclesiastical,  Jesuistic,  and  Ultramontane  Spirit. 

2.  God,  the  Ideal.    To  become  united  to  Him  through  love, 

303 


APPENDIX  II 

to  take  all  will,  all  personality,  from  oneself,  to  become  ab- 
sorbed in  Him  (Gospel  side).  It  is  the  mystical,  Franciscan, 
Molinish  spirit.  Neo-Catholics  through  Love,  Catholic- 
socialists. 


General  Historical  Movement. 

1.  The  East :  Egypt,  Persia,  Syria,  Asia  Minor,  Phoenicia 
and  Judsea.     Some  traces  of  India. 

Faith,  Mysticism,  Idealistic  Pantheism,  Mysteries,  Prose- 
lytism,  Religious  Element. 

2.  Greece  :   Arts,  Philosophy,  Science,  Worship  of  Strength 
and  of  Pleasure,  Cult  of  Man,  Genius  of  the  Finite. 

Scientific  and  Philosophical  Elements. 

3.  Rome  :  Politics,  Conquests,  Administration,  Legislation, 
Organization,  Genius  of  the  Finite. 

Practical  and  Political  Element. 

The  epitome  of  the  three  is  Christianity. 

4.  German  Barbarians  :    Feudality,  the  Independent  Ego, 
the  Lay  Spirit,  Element  of  Realism  and  Freedom. 

4b.  The  battle  against  the  Church  begins  with  Philippe  le 
Bel,  Jean  de  Meung,  etc.  .  .  . 

The  epitome  of  the  two  is  the  Modern  Spirit,  manifested 
by  German  science,  the  French  Revolution,  German  and 
French  Art,  English  industry,  etc.  .  .  . 


What  I  know  of  the  East  and  of  other  countries  leads  me  to 
believe  that  they  are  isolated,  or  precursors  of  the  universal 
movement,  who  have  a  movement  of  their  own  ;  but  that  move- 
ment has  no  effect  upon  ours,  which  is  the  true  one. 

Principle  for  the  Classification  of  Systems. 

1.  Metaphysicians :    To  have  the  definition  of  the  Being 
(the  All)  and  the  order  of  what  it  contains. 

2.  Psychologists  :  To  have  the  definition  of  the  Soul  and  the 
order  of  all  that  it  contains. 

(The  intermediary  solution  would  be  :    1,  To  give  a  Meta- 

304 


APPENDIX  II 

physic  containing  a  Psychology ;  2,  to  reach  Metaphysic 
through  Psychology.) 

That  is  the  principle  which  I  have  stated,  and  it  is  certain 
that  the  Academicians,  Pyrrhonians,  Sceptics,  Stoicians,  and 
Epicureans  on  one  side,  and  on  the  other  Locke,  Hutchinson, 
Ferguson,  Smith,  Reid,  D.  Stewart,  Hamilton,  Brown,  Con- 
dillac,  Helvetius,  Tracy,  and  Laromiguiere  belonged  to  the 
second  class.  It  is  also  certain  that  the  Neoplatonists,  the 
Germans,  and  M.  Cousin,  who  started  from  it,  have  re-entered 
Metaphysics  through  Psychology. 

This  classification  is  therefore  good.  It  must  be  noticed 
however  : 

1.  That  (subjective)  systems  are  a  belittling  of  Philosophy, 
caused  by  despair  of  making  Metaphysics  objective. 

2.  That  Psychology  exists  in  all  objective  systems,  only 
that  it  is  subordinate  to  the  science  of  the  All. 

3.  That  there  is  some  Metaphysic  in  subjective  systems 
(question  of  Certainty,  God  and  the  Immortality  of  the  Soul, 
Materialism,  etc.),  which  we  only  classify  according  to  their 
predominance. 

4.  That  it  must  necessarily  be  so,  in  order  to  have  a  Philo- 
sophy, that  is  to  say,  a  general  Science,  the  epitome  of  sciences. 


This  leads  me  to  correct  what  I  wrote  last  year. 

The  essence  of  Philosophy  is  to  be  the  Science,  the  total 
Science,  the  epitome  of  other  sciences,  the  System  of  Knowledge. 
This  system  embraces  the  Objective  and  the  Subjective. 

1.  Either  the  subjective  is  enveloped  in  the  system  of  the 
objective,  as  a  part,  with  no  distinction, 

2.  Or  it  is  separate  from  it  and  considered  almost  ex- 
clusively. 

This  is  the  principle  of  their  classification  as  passing  and 
transitory  systems. 

Progress  must  consist  in  preparing  a  non- transitory  system. 
This  preparation  consists  in  proclaiming  direct,  personal, 
analytical  observation.  Hypotheses  may  have  a  history  and 

305  x 


APPENDIX  II 

succeed  each  other  by  overturning  each  other.  This  has 
hitherto  been  the  mode  of  development  of  Philosophy.  Given 
a  conception,  or  hypothesis,  it  is  applied  to  divers  cases  and 
made  into  a  system  ;  that  is  its  development.  It  then  mani- 
fests contradictions  which  lead  to  another  hypothesis,  and  so 
on. 

Now  we  may  notice  that,  for  the  last  three  centuries,  sciences 
have  been  coming  one  by  one  out  of  this  groove  and  turning  to 
direct  observation ;  that  Psychology  and  the  moral  sciences 
have  just  taken  this  turning,  and  that  the  facts  which  they 
observe  are  no  longer  contested. 

It  remains  to  be  seen  whether  General  Philosophy  or  Meta- 
physics itself  can  find  a  similar  method. 

Now  it  is  clear  that  the  most  natural  means,  which  is  to 
generalize  the  results  of  other  sciences,  would  not  make  it  into 
a  science.  It  would  have  no  proper  object,  and  the  last 
results  of  each  science  always  being  contested  hypotheses,  it 
would  itself  be  but  a  hypothesis,  still  more  contested — what 
indeed  it  has  ever  been.  Thus  it  would  hardly  change  its 
nature.  To  remove  this  difficulty,  it  suffices  to  notice  : 
1.  That  it  is  the  science  of  the  Possible  and  not  of  the  Real. 
Which  leads  it  to  find  its  method  in  the  analysis  of  ideas,  in 
their  definition  and  comparison,  whence  result  some  theorems. 
As  such,  it  is  a  sort  of  abstract  Mathematics.  2,  That  it  is 
the  science  of  the  Necessary,  not  of  the  Accidental.  Which 
leads  it,  when  occupied  with  the  Real  World,  to  seek  for  a 
means  to  deduce  this  World,  and  prevents  it  from  observing  it. 

It  is  well  to  notice  that  all  those  tendencies  are  to  be  found 
in  our  times. 

Let  us  add  to  that  what  we  have  said  on  the  causes  of  error 
in  Philosophy. 

1.  Its  progress   consists  in  substituting  observation  and 
deduction  a  priori  to  hypothesis. 

2.  Its  progress  consists  in  substituting  the  total  to  the  partial 
definition  of  the  Absolute. 

These  two  propositions  could  already  be  deduced  from  the 

306 


APPENDIX  II 

very  idea  of  Philosophy.  What  is  the  true  definition  of  the 
All  ?  True  definition  implies  the  analytical  deductive  form. 
The  All  implies  the  Total  Absolute. 


Compare  the  corresponding  epochs  of  the  two  analogous 
periods  : 

1.  The   lonians,  Abderitans,  etc.,  to  the  Philosophers  of  the 
Renaissance. 

2.  The  Eleates,  Pythagoreans,  Plato,  to  the  Cartesians. 

3.  Aristotle  to  Leibnitz. 

4.  Locke,  Condillac,  Rousseau,  the  English  Moralists,  Hume, 
to  the  Epicureans,  Stoicians,  Academicians,  Sceptics. 

5.  The  Neoplatonists  to  the  Germans.    For  instance,  for 
No.  2,  why  a  scale  of  Intelligibles  in   Antiquity  and  God, 
Individual,  total  of  the  intelligibles  for  the  moderns  ? 

The  consequences  of  this  fact  are  very  grave ;  the  German 
Pantheism  of  our  times  is  entirely  founded  on  the  following 
principle  :  God  is  the  one  form  of  the  world.  Having  con- 
sidered the  formula  "  Ens  realissimus  "  they  have  admitted 
that  it  possessed  all  the  properties  of  Immensity,  Eternity, 
Unity,  and  Necessity  which  the  theists  attributed  to  it.  But 
they  have  judged  that  they  required  to  see  what  is  contained 
in  this  Being,  and  what  is  the  nature  or  the  divers  species  of 
this  Reality  which  it  contains.  For  Reality,  Real,  Being,  etc., 
are  abstracts,  mere  points  of  view  of  determinate  concretes 
endowed  with  a  proper  form.  Thence  it  follows  that  the  Ens 
realissimus  is  but  the  totality  of  the  determinate  possible 
concretes.  It  ensues  that  it  is  the  World.  That  being  done, 
the  Germans  tried  to  construct  the  World,  seeking  a  priori 
what  are  the  possible  determinate  concretes,  and  binding  them 
together. 


General  Theory  of  Systems. 

A  system  is  an  organized  Being  of  which  the  soul  is  a  general 
idea,  a  general  proposition  :  it  is  that  proposition  which  is  to 
be  found.  The  means  is  to  enumerate  the  different  propositions 

307 


APPENDIX   II 

of  the  System,  to  find  the  general  propositions  on  which  they 
depend  and  the  more  general  proposition  from  which  these 
come.  (Ex.  :  M.  Ravaisson,  Exposition  of  Stoicism.) 

Notice  that  this  is  the  march  of  every  science  ;  each  science 
studies  a  thing  which  is  one,  the  human  body,  the  animal 
series,  the  chemical  body,  etc.  Its  method  is  to  gather 
properties  and  to  go  back  to  the  definition  or  general  proposi- 
tion ;  and  Philosophy,  which  is  the  science  of  the  All,  likewise 
seeks  the  definition  of  the  All. 

1.  First,  notice  that  all  systems  are  not  one,  that  the  author 
often  has  two  or  more  principles,  really  contradictory,  and 
that  his  effort  is  to  conciliate  them. 

For  instance,  Malebranche  :  He  has  a  theory  of  the  Ideas 
which  ought  to  lead  him  straight  to  Spinozism  ;  and  a  theory 
of  the  Ego  and  of  Consciousness  which  leads  him  away  from  it. 

2.  Besides  the  philosophical  forces  and  principles  there  are 
some   of  another  kind  which  act.     For  instance,   Religion. 
Malebranche  has  the  Universal  Being  for  a  God.     His  Christi- 
anity forces  him  to  make  of  Him  a  person,  a  man,  distinct 
from  the  World. 

3.  The  Philosopher's  principle  is  not  always  an   explicit 
definition  of  the  Being.     All  Philosophies  do  not  reach  this 
altitude  ;    nor  do  they  all  clearly  free  their  principle  ;    for 
instance,  Descartes. 

Aristotle,  the  Neoplatonists,  Spinoza,  and  the  Germans 
alone  fully  understood  the  idea  of  Philosophy. 

4.  A  complete  deduction  is  not  drawn  out  of  the  principle 
stated,  as  in  Malebranche.   For  instance,  Spinoza  and  he  positing 
as  general  modes  of  the  Being,  and  only  modes  known  to  us 
— Extension  and  Thought.     This  fault  is  general  in  modern 
Christian  systems,  and  shocks  one  especially  after  reading  the 
Ancients. 

The  great  reason  being  that  our  God  being  a  Creator,  and  His 
act  being  incomprehensible,  nothing  can  be  deduced  from  Him. 
So  that  the  system  is  cut  in  halves  and  made  of  two  pieces, 
badly  stuck  together. 

308 


APPENDIX  II 

It  is  clear  that  this  opposition  of  Thought  and  Extension, 
of  the  Spiritual  and  the  Material,  comes  from  the  old  opposition 
instituted  by  Christianity  between  the  soul  and  the  body. 


(See  the  end  of  each  note-book.) 

The  end  of  Philosophy  is  a  definition  of  the  All  considered 
as  indivisible. 

The  work  of  the  historian  of  Philosophy  is  to  disengage 
from  each  system  the  definition  of  the  All  and  to  deduce  it 
from  it. 


Opposition  of  the  Modern  to  the  Antique  period. 


I  have  already  touched  upon  this  question,  but  must  come 
back  to  it. 

The  same  law  is  seen  here  as  in  embryogenia  ;  every  new 
species  traverses  the  Phases  or  States  traversed  by  the  former, 
but  brings  with  it  a  differential  personal  element.  Thus  the 
human  embryo  has  striking  analogies  with  the  polypus,  the 
radiary,  the  mollusc,  the  fish,  the  reptile,  the  bird,  etc.  It  is 
all  that  successively,  but  with  a  special  character  of  its  own 
which  makes  it  a  human  embryo,  a  superior  character  which 
gives  it  a  destiny  which  the  others  had  not. 

Thus  each  individual  reproduces  in  itself  a  succession  of 
systems  and  civilizations,  but  with  that  superior  character 
that  it  is  aided  by  the  superior  civilization  of  his  own  century. 

The  world  is  a  collection  of  individuals  in  an  ascending 
order ;  each  of  them  having  gone  through  all  the  inferior  degrees 
in  its  formation,  but  having  given  them  its  personal  character. 

Thus  does  modern  Philosophy  traverse  the  same  states 
and  systems  as  Ancient  Philosophy,  but  with  a  personal  and 
superior  element. 

In  order  to  know  this  element  we  must  observe  :  1,  the 
starting-point :  2,  the  simultaneous  exterior  actions. 

Modern  Philosophy  is  the  outcome  : 
1.  Of  Antiquity  through  Scholasticism. 

309 


APPENDIX  II 

2.  Of  Antiquity  through  the  Renaissance. 

3.  Of  Antiquity  through  Christianity. 

It  has  lived  through  Christianity  under  the  influence  of 
Antiquity.  This  is  very  grave.  It  is  clear  that  there  will  not  be 
an  entirely  new  beginning,  that  the  transformed  Antiquity  is 
in  use,  and  that  the  new  combination  will  in  every  point  be 
superior  to  the  former.  We  start  from  a  more  elevated  point 
than  the  Ancients. 

The  first  Philosophy  (that  of  the  Renaissance  and  Protest- 
antism) is  not  serious.  A  serious  Philosophy  proclaims  a 
principle,  a  method,  draws  it  from  itself,  invents  it,  and  pro- 
duces an  organized  individual,  which  is  a  system.  The  Re- 
naissance has  no  principle  of  its  own.  It  is  a  copy  from  the 
Ancients,  an  imitation.  Protestantism  is  great  as  a  historical 
epoch  and  insignificant  as  a  philosophical  epoch.  It  has 
neither  method  nor  dogma. 

The  only  man  with  an  original  system  is  Hobbes.  He  repre- 
sents the  epoch  of  Matter.  He  is  a  Materialist  and  a 
mathematician.  Bacon,  Galileo,  Torricelli,  Harvey,  Copernicus, 
etc.,  come  within  the  same  range  of  movement.  The  first 
philosopher  who  really  proceeds  from  modern  society  is 
Descartes.  He  emerges  from  Christianity,  as  Thales  emerges 
from  Paganism.  He  proceeds  from  the  common  ground  of  the 
spirit  of  his  time,  Christianity,  and  opposes  it  by  proclaiming 
a  free  personal  principle  and  a  method.  Descartes'  is  a  philo- 
sophical Christianity.  His  philosophy  lives,  transforms  itself, 
and  forms  a  real  epoch  in  the  human  mind. 

The  Renaissance  philosophers,  on  the  contrary,  do  not  leave 
any  school ;  there  are  no  polemics  amongst  them.  They  are 
isolated  points,  pure  curiosities,  accidents.  They  are  the 
dead  called  forth,  and  immediately  disappearing. 

It  may  be  said,  in  general,  that  a  real  and  living  philosophy 
becomes  formal  when  the  metaphysical  system  practised  in 
the  world  at  the  time  needs  to  be  translated  into  its  philosophical 
form.  Philosophy  is  a  form,  a  mode  of  existence  of  the  human 
mind.  It  only  really  exists  when  it  expresses  in  its  own  way 

310 


APPENDIX  II 

the  human  mind  of  the  time.  If  not,  it  does  not  exist ;  or 
else,  lacking  personal  force,  it  reproduces  an  old  system.  But 
then  it  still  lacks  the  principle  of  life.  The  first  condition  to  be 
counted  in  History  as  a  real  epoch  of  Development  is  to  be, 
by  itself. 

It  is  to  be  noticed  that  the  materialist  spirit  of  the  first 
period,  expressed  by  Pomponace,  Vanini,  Montaigne,  Sanchez, 
the  sixteenth  century  literature,  Bacon,  the  physical  sciences, 
and  Hobbs,  is  propagated  in  England  and  in  France  by  Gas- 
sendi,  Bernier,  Ninon  de  Lenclos'  society,  and  some  libertines, 
and  joins  Locke  and  the  seventeenth  century,  after  filtering 
under  the  earth. 


311 


Appendix  III 

PLAN  OF  THE  LESSONS  IN  PHILOSOPHY  GIVEN  AT 
NEVERS  IN  1851-1852. 

1st    Lesson  :  Of  the  object  of  Philosophy. 
2nd        „         Method  and  Division  of  Philosophy. 
3rd        ,,         Object  and   Legitimacy  of  Psychology. 
4th        „         Theory  of  the  Faculties  of  the  Soul. 
5th        „         Of  Consciousness  (object,  certainty,  extension), 
6th        „         Of  the  divers  Senses  :   Analyses  of  Facts  (and, 
added  afterwards  :    Of  Exterior  Perception). 
7th        „         Nature  of  Exterior  Perception. 
8th        ,,         Of  the  Exterior  Perceptions. 
9th        ,,         Of  the  Education  of  the  Senses  and  of  Acquired 

Perceptions. 

10th        „         Of  Imagination  properly  so  called, 
llth        ,.         Of  the  Association  of  Ideas. 
12th        „         Of  Memory. 
13th        „         Of  Induction. 

14th        „         Attention,  Comparison,  Abstraction. 
15th        „         Generalization,  Combination. 
16th        „         Of  Creative  Imagination. 
17th        „         Judgment,  Reasoning. 
18th        „         Reason  :    exposition  of  the  subject ;    sensual- 

istic  opinions. 

19th        „         Reason :    idealistic  opinions. 
20th        ,,         Reason  :    refutation  of  idealistic  opinions. 
21st        ,,         Analysis  of  the  Ideas  and  of  the  axioms  of  Time 

and  Space. 

22nd        „         Analysis  of  the  Idea  of  the  Infinite  (mathe- 
matics), and  of  the  axioms  of  Cause,  Sub- 
stance, Identity. 
312 


« 


APPENDIX  III 

23rd   Lesson :  Analysis  of  the  Idea  of  the  Perfect. 

24th        ,,         Theory  of  Reason. 

25th  „  Present  State  of  the  Mind.  Nature  of  the  Ideas, 
their  Origin. 

26th        „         Progress  of  Knowledge. 

27th        „         (Sensibility)  Of  Pain  and  Pleasure. 

28th        „         Of  Sensation. 

29th        „         Of  the  divers  Senses. 

30th  „  Of  Images  (in  a  note :  See  the  Theory  of  In- 
telligence). 

31st         „         Of  Desire. 

32nd        j,         Desires  excited  by  Sensations. 

33rd  a  Sentiments  and  Desires  caused  by  Ideas  (Sen- 
timents and  Desires  caused  by  the  Idea  of 
Ourselves,  regardless  of  the  exterior). 

34th  „  Sentiments  and  Desires  caused  by  the  Idea  of 
Ourselves  with  regard  to  the  exterior. 

35th  „  Sentiments  and  Desires  caused  by  the  Idea  of 
another  Being  without  consideration  for  a 
third. 

36th  „  Sentiments  and  Desires  caused  by  the  Idea  of 
another  Being  with  consideration  for  a  third. 

37th  „  Sentiments  and  Desires  caused  by  Ideas  of 
Reason  (the  Beautiful,  the  Good,  the  Perfect). 

38th        „         Progress  of  the  Passions. 

39th        „         Will. 

40th        „         Volition. 

41st        „         Liberty  of  Volition. 

42nd       „         Influence  of  the  Volition  on  Action. 

43rd        „         Movement. 

44th        ,,         Movements  determined  by  Ideas. 

45th        ,,         Voluntary  and  acquired  Movements. 

46th        „         Of  Habit. 

47th        „         Spirituality  of  the  Soul. 

48th        „         Relations  between  the  Physical  and  the  Moral. 

49th        „         General  theory. 

313  Y 


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